


Pressed Between the Pages Left to Read

by Abyssia



Series: Crimson Flower: epilogue [2]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Autistic Linhardt, Epistolary, M/M, NB Linhardt, Pining, hilda survives because I said so, post crimson flower
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:13:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 26,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21997318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abyssia/pseuds/Abyssia
Summary: After the battle of Derdriu, Claude snuck his way back through the imperial lines to say goodbye to Teach and Edelgard one last time. But on the way, he found that Hilda had not perished, and instead was saved by an old acquaintance from the academy: Linhardt.After this encounter, Claude ostensibly jokes that they should keep in touch, and Linhardt decides to take him up on that offer.
Relationships: Linhardt von Hevring/Claude von Riegan
Series: Crimson Flower: epilogue [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1646527
Comments: 8
Kudos: 34





	1. I. Dried Out Leaves

**Author's Note:**

> So, I am insatiable, and since getting a fairly decent grasp on writing Claude, I decided to work on my own self-indulgent LinClaude fic while the other one is still in the works. This is an alternate take on them and a surprisingly stable one.

_ 14th of Horsebow Moon, 1186 _

To Claude

When we parted at Derdriu, you suggested that we stay in contact after the war ends. However, after that very battle, you and your companions disappeared without a trace. And so, accordingly, I was lead to assume that you must not have been all that serious about that particular suggestion. However, only a few moons later, you sent a letter to Edelgard yourself, which she was so kind as to inform me of. Whether it was your intention or not, I took the initiative to request your contact information from the Emperor and make good on my promise.

Today, first and foremost, I am writing to you as the newly appointed Head of the ‘Imperial Research Institute’ in Enbarr,(title and institution name still pending). Immediately after the war, Caspar and I spent a good deal of time in the former Adrestia-Leicester border regions conducting food aid and other such services. Needless to say, I am in a much better position now to contact you, now that I have returned to the Capital.

That leads me to my official reason for contacting you. As of now, I am responsible for consolidating the Empire’s base of knowledge. My job has begun in cataloguing the contents of the Imperial Library, as well as adding what books were able to be salvaged from the wreckages of Garreg Mach. From here on out, I will be working with the Education Minister as plans for schools and other institutes are put into place.

Upon my initial evaluation of the Imperial Library, I was frankly, disappointed. Not nearly enough care has been put in to even maintaining the collection since even before the war as I understand it. The subjects covered are shockingly limited, but the most distressing gap is knowledge from other nations. In specific, all of the books I could find about other nations were written in Fódlani, by Fódlani authors. As far as I can tell, not even any translated primary sources are anywhere to be found at present. This, by my standards, is unacceptable. 

That is to say that, in my new position, I have reason to reach out to other nations, which the Foreign Minister is largely doing on my behalf. But considering my professional and personal interest, I would be remiss if I did not at least attempt to contact you. I have no longer any desire to speak of war or even strategy. The time for bloodshed is over, and with you beyond the Throat in Almyra, perhaps steps can be made towards filling the gaps of ignorance. 

With Regards,

Linhardt

* * *

  
  
_25th of Horsebow Moon, 1186_  
  
To Linhardt,

Professional and personal interest? Linhardt, if you really just want to get to know me better, all you have to do is ask. I’ll admit, that was my fault for not making it all that easy for you to contact me, but let's pretend it was a fun little challenge than I left for you. And to be honest, I am surprised that you did contact me, but knowing that you put so much effort into it, it warms my heart.

You speak of my retreat with my ‘companions’ as if you had nothing to do with the matter. Hilda owes her survival to you, and for that I think I owe you at least a proper thanks. Even if I didn’t already find you interesting enough to want to talk to, I would still owe you an eternal debt of gratitude.

I myself would be remiss if I didn’t extend my congratulations on your new position! Sounds more than perfect for someone of your talents. Even if the imperial library is limited, I am sure there are some gems and some secrets to be unearthed. I’ll be more than happy to see about getting you access to what you’re after over here on my side of the Throat. I may have reasons to be coy with you personally, but not when it comes to the enrichment of the people of Fódlan.

I, on the other hand, am still in the process of getting things worked out on my end. I am intending to be the official ambassador between Almyra and Fódlan as soon as I can, but that has proved to be a bit of a challenge. Due to the fact that Almyra has never so much furnished a diplomat across the throat in living memory. But until such a time as I manage to claw my way into the halls of Embarr, you are more than welcome to visit Almyra yourself. I dare say it would be most prudent in your quest for knowledge.

You and I both spent so much time together in the library back in the day, truly a shame we never got much chance to talk before now, huh? Already, I can tell that we have a lot in common. You always seemed like a guy that would rather keep to himself, even if I found you fascinating in that regard. But also, if I was in the library, usually I was busy focusing on my own goals of knowledge. But If I had known you were interested in talking to me, gods know I would have taken that chance.

Good to hear that at least some of the books made it out of Garreg Mach. Even if Seteth was personally bent on destroying anything of real interest, that place was still very enlightening.

And, to be fair, Almyra isn’t too much better when it comes to that whole “primary text” thing about other nations. Almyra is a big place, so a lot of it consists of books from all over. The biggest amount of Fódlan-sourced wisdom is about blacksmithing and metallurgy, if you can believe it (I’m sure you can). 

Don’t worry, I get you. I won’t be bringing up the war any more than absolutely necessary. With any luck, Fódlan and friends won’t see another war like that within our lifetimes, or in a hundred generations after us. I look forward to hearing from you, and towards a most fruitful relationship between the two of us, and our two nations. 

Yours, most Humbly

Claude von Riegan  


* * *

_5th of Wyvern Moon, 1186_  
  
To Claude,

I did not mention it because there is no need for me to be lauded for such deeds. Hilda was lucky, it was Balthus after all who managed to keep her stable until my healer corps were able to arrive. Edelgard never wanted to harm the citizens of Derdriu and so my activities were simply in line with her directives. 

Several people from Leicester, some of whom I have become acquainted with joined our side back at Garreg Mach. And so, invading their home territory was not an easy choice. And additionally, as Constance and Hapi chose to side with us, they found great difficulty in learning that Balthus was one of the Alliance Generals as well. 

Speaking of them, Lysithea has lately chosen to assist me in my duties. When she isn’t busy picking up after Lorenz that is. Marianne however, as I understand it, she has returned to Edmund territory and did so without telling many about it, including myself. And finally, Hapi has taken to spending time here in the Capital, and I am sure she would be pleased to hear of what became of Balthus.

I am not sure if I am comforted or exhausted to know that Almyra suffers similarly lacking information. I can be grateful that it at least gives us all the more reason to work together. But, it is difficult for me to be happy about incomplete information even in the abstract.

Yes, I do hope that you will refrain from being capricious when it comes to my actual official requests. But, those will primarily come from my office and need not be the focus here. Because it is as you said, I do in fact wish to know you better. Especially, as it appears that you seemed to find me fascinating as I also did. 

Already you are attempting to entice me all the way across the Throat? I am not sure how much I would truly benefit, given that all your books are in Almyran, but I am intrigued. I did take a stab at learning other languages back at the academy, but the resources were lacking to say the least. Even so, there is no knowing how quickly work will permit me to do so. This position Edelgard has created for me does come with unlimited vacation days, however, the institution is still scarcely in a state where it will even run while I am away.

I did actually find a book from Almyra that fascinated me and that I took the liberty of taking with me when we first fled Garreg Mach. It’s an Almyran poetry reader, which caught my eye initially because, well, poetry is not exactly the first thing I am made to think of when it comes to Almyra.

For the moment, however, here on my end, we have just secured access to the imperial archives. Progress is still slow and not always positive. There are records and artefacts here from countless emperors previous, and I can scarcely contain my excitement at what might lie within. I will keep you informed of any pertinent findings.

Regards,

Linhardt

* * *

_ 16th of Wyvern Moon, 1186 _

To Linhardt

How best to put this…Regardless of whether or not you think you did anything particularly heroic, Hilda is someone very special to me, and your actions saved her life. It is important to me as well that you know how much it means to me. Magic was never my strong suit, and so I admire people who dedicate their efforts to healing and medicine. My crest takes care of healing for me, so I didn’t even have to worry about it as much as others. And everyone else that you saved in Derdriu, I thank you for that.

Right right, Lorenz is the newly appointed governor of Leicester, huh? I don’t blame him for having sided with the empire, honestly. And it looks like doing so got him what he always wanted in the end. I do hope Lysithea is doing well, and I’m sure she will be of great help to you too. Marianne, however, I don’t know much about, but Hilda has also been trying to contact her. If you don’t hear anything else about her, I’ll see what I can do.

I am however more than happy to give you information to pass on to dear Hapi. Balthus is with me, and for the time being is acting as a personal bodyguard of sorts. For both me and for Hilda as I take my time getting my footing here. Tell Hapi that she can send her correspondences here, and I’ll make sure the big oaf reads them.

I have received the official requests from your office, and I intend to fully cooperate to the best of my ability. But, as this is a personal correspondence, if there is anything you are personally interested in I can certainly provide. As you’ll learn in my official letter, I won’t be able to send any original volumes your way, but I would be more than willing to negotiate to get you access to the House of Wisdom, should you find your way east.

Almyran poetry huh? You’ll have to tell me which poems catch your eye as well. I wouldn’t peg you for a poetry fan, but well, I wouldn’t peg you for a guy to go out of their way to send a personal letter to a near-stranger either, so I guess you’re just full of surprises, huh? 

But, it seems to me that you might be interested in learning Almyran yourself? Now that is something that I can be of definite direct help with. I trust you will keep me informed if anything of interest surfaces from those archives, and I do not just mean of interest to me. I would be interested to hear about anything that catches your eye. Since you’re interested in poetry too and not just crests, I am curious to find out what other interests you might have. 

Kind Regards,

Claude

* * *

_ 28th of Wyvern Moon, 1186 _

To Claude

I do believe that I understand now, I thank you. It is pleasant to find appreciation for my efforts, even if to me they are somewhat routine and mundane. How dreadful, to think that human lives hanging on the line is something that has become so commonplace to me. That is one of the horrors of war, and the thing I am perhaps most eager to leave behind.

You need not trouble yourself on my behalf, especially not regarding Marianne. I am certain that if she wished to contact me, she would have already done so. I wouldn’t want her to be any further trouble on my account. However, some independent confirmation of her health would be desirable, although I imagine that can be secured through the official Imperial diplomatic channels, given her high rank in court.

I will notify Hapi as such, although I would not tell Balthus to expect anything. She at least hasn’t expressed any such desire to write him. However, Hapi also never verbally expressed any desire to hang around my office in the palace, and yet she does so. In that way, perhaps she will want to write to her old friend. I did happen to travel with Hapi to her village of Timotheos over the course of this last moon, however, which is the reason that my reply is so delayed. In that regard, she may in fact have news to share.

I do know some very basic Almyran. In addition to that poetry book, I got my hands on some conversation guidebooks from the Imperial Library. While my linguistic knowledge is limited, I am able to transcribe Almyran at the very least. Which is to say that, yes, I am interested in learning Almyran. 

The information you have provided to my office, it is most enticing. In comparison, the Imperial Library is simply dreadful. From my understanding, it was far more well equipped before I or Edelgard’s time. There appears to have been a quite thorough purge in somewhat recent memory. And I suspect that it had something to do with the Insurrection back in 1171.

As far as things of note in the archives, I have found one thing that I wish to bring to your attention. It is an illuminated manuscript in original Almyran. According to the archival records, it was a peace offering gift to one of the previous emperors; Emperor Brünhild, Early 11th century. The text appears to be handwritten, and the pages are full of ornate decorations and accompanied by illustrations. I have begun work on transcribing it myself, but it may be well beyond my capabilities to actually understand. The cover itself reads ‘imanun naari ih vanasaazh’ which I can only vaguely understand. 

I wonder, is this some sort of common tale? If it was, I would expect it to be in movable type print. Otherwise is it some sort of private correspondence, or an original story written by the Almyran Queen? I would be lying if I did not find those particular personal details to be as intriguing if not more than the material nature of the tome.

The records stated it was gifted by a Queen Esila of Almyra, but much to my disappointment(but not surprise), there was scarcely any other Imperial records about her, apart from her reign, and dates of her Diplomatic visits to the southern Adrestian Isles. While I am curious about what information you can provide me personally, I do think some more detailed records of Almyran dynasties would be very prudent additions to the imperial library. At least as detailed as of the other Fodlani nations.

Regards,

Linhardt

* * *

_ 9th of Red Wolf Moon, 1186 _

To Linhardt

Don’t worry about it Linhardt, I think I understand your point of view. To you, the facts of the situation matter more, right? You’re probably more caught up with the fact that your army is the one that caused those injuries in the first place, and so healing is just the right thing to do in order to right some of those wrongs? In that case, I do understand why you’d be hesitant to accept praise.

Got it, I’m not about to pry into your personal affairs, especially not with Marianne, but I will let you know if I get word of her wellbeing. And I will tell Balthus, maybe try and prod him to write Hapi a letter himself. But, I am interested what you might be able to share about the trip! Making your way to such a secluded village, I can only imagine what mysteries drew you there.

Does that sound familiar? Linhardt, I am a Prince of Almyra! Of course, I know all of the cultural gems my country has to offer!...Is what I wish I could say. But, this being a written correspondence means that I don’t have to look like a fool in your presence, and can instead come to you prepared with the information that you seek. It turns out the book you found was an old Almyran Epic poem. 

Your observation of it being handwritten is definitely relevant, which causes me to guess that it was a gift in the tradition of ‘ _kal’khizhav’_. Luckily, I found an original manuscript of the tale in question. I’d roughly translate the title as “To Cross the River of Iman”. Iman is an old region out in the east of Almyra, I think Queen Esila hailed from there herself, but I’d have to check. It looks like my haste to bring you your answer meant I neglected the other ones, huh. I definitely will work on getting a copy of those royal records for the Imperial archives though.

The text itself a bit difficult to parse, even for me, it’s in a really heavy eastern dialect. I’ll give you a little preview of the story: it is about two ruling princesses, who instead of fighting to take over the others’ land— well, I can’t very well spoil it, now can I! I assure you, it is a tail full of thrilling espionage, political tensions and thematically resonant romance. If, any of that is your fancy.

If you are so enticed by what Almyra has to offer, just say the word. I do still have some political sway, and an audience with a dignified Fódlani academic would be more than welcome, which means, it would be a simple thing to secure you the most lavish accommodations here with me at the Royal Embassy.

Yours Most Dutifully,

Claude

* * *

_ 21st of Red Wolf Moon, 1186 _

  
To Claude,

In a way, yes. My association with the imperial army does contribute to my hesitance to accept praise in this circumstance, but it is more general than that. My duty as a healer is to heal and save as many as I can, that is all. I may be the most skilled healer and most promising scholar in the Emperor’s company, but that does not mean that I am owed any such debts of gratitude.

The journey to Timotheos was partially motivated by academic interest, yes, but it was ultimately for Hapi's sake. And to that end, I am not obliged to share much more. The secrecy of her village is still paramount. However, I will say that some mysteries about her Crest were indeed unravelled, much to both of our relief.

You still are so eager to see me in person, how curious. I would think that you would see the benefits of letters, considering how this medium allowed you to ‘not appear like a fool’ to me. There’s no need to worry about impressing me with such a delay in our letters now, is there? I am grateful most of all that you can provide the information that I seek. 

And as it seems you are able to provide even where the official channels cannot, I thank you. This fable sounds quite unlike just about anything I have yet managed to read. Although I will admit, Fódlani tales never much interested me. Tales of valiant knights or pious saints from the Northern territories; or high-drama romances as are popular in Adrestia; however, this one fascinates me, perhaps because it is so unique to me.

I am curious about this Almyran tradition you mentioned. That context would seem to explain the general construction of the book itself. It is not very dense in information, as the tale itself is itself not very long, but it is very painstakingly crafted. I wonder if you could inform me a bit more about this practice? And I will admit, it makes my speculations about these two rulers all the more intense.

I am in fact truly interested in visiting Almyra when circumstances allow, and I cannot very well refuse ‘lavish accommodations’ as you so put it. However, it seems that your ambassadorship has yet to be officially sanctioned. In this case, I will be the personal guest of the prince of Almyra then? Unless the official capacity is truly the requirement. Regardless, I will happily accept that invitation.

Regards,

Linhardt

* * *

_ 1st of Ethereal Moon, 1186 _

  
To Linhardt

Your humility and loyalty is still admirable Linhardt. And truly your dedication to the path of a healer means more to the world at large than I can even hope to express. However, this leads me to wonder, exactly what lead you to that path in the first place? Furthermore, what lead you to the officer’s academy?

You are right however, I am still not the ambassador(at time of writing). I am but a ‘politically active prince’. Almyra isn’t quite like Fódlan, my birthright doesn’t get me much apart from a whole lot of people watching me for any misstep. That’s part of why I went to Fódlan in the first place. Over there, they just hand power and privilege to you based on lineage alone. Although in my circumstance, I did have a lot to do so far as proving myself, it wasn’t exactly about my capabilities as a politician now was it.

Ah yes, Kal’khizhav it is a very old tradition, wherein someone hand crafts an illuminated manuscript as a gift for someone. It can be exchanged between friends, family, or lovers, usually, the contents of the inscriptions hold hints to what feelings are meant to be conveyed. Given that I know the contents of the tale itself, I feel like I might know what dear old Queen Esila wanted to convey to her imperial friend. But I suppose that little secret will have died with the old emperor, sadly.

‘When the circumstances allow’, Edelgard is still keeping you busy, is she? I might have to have some words with her myself. It is crucial to the future of our two nations that we solidify this diplomatic bond! You are more than welcome, however, to visit my homeland as my personal guest. Regardless of the diplomatic merit of your visit, I assure that you will be well taken care of.

Respectfully,

Claude.

* * *

_ 12th of Ethereal Moon, 1186 _

To Claude,

I appreciate that sentiment, although, at this point, there is not much that I can complain about. I wouldn’t say that I am particularly motivated or special for this. As mentioned, I merely follow what interests me most. 

I doubt it will be easy to bring such a prized Adrestian artefact halfway across a continent, but rules such as that have never stopped me before, and so I have no reason to let it now. I would be curious to know what you can tell me about the book itself, but mostly, I would like to translate it and read it for myself, which I do expect you can aide me with.

In regards to the origin of my interest in healing; I was made aware of my possession of a Crest of Cethleann at a very young age, this also came with a proficiency in and affinity for White Magic. I myself was born with a weak constitution. I fell sick often, which I detest above all else. Illness dulls the mind and makes it difficult for me to research or learn. And so, I began learning about medicine as a way to unlock the puzzle of my illnesses. Another contributing factor was that my white magic abilities were very often called upon by my reckless friend Caspar.

As for my decision to attend Garreg Mach, there wasn’t exactly any other way for me to study medicine, or particularly Crests. Professor Hanneman was at Garreg Mach, and so was all of the church literature on the topic. My local clergy had more than enough of me badgering them with heretical questions, and so my choice was clear. 

Respectfully,

Linhardt  


* * *

_ 22nd of Ethereal Moon, 1186 _

To Linhardt

Now that’s what I like to hear, Linhardt. I wouldn’t want to cause dear Edelgard any more headaches, but I am sure that bringing that manuscript over here would be the least of her worries. 

Now that is fascinating. You keep saying how you only aimlessly follow your interests. But on the contrary, you hone in on your goal like an arrow to a target. You were interested in healing for personal and outside reasons as well. And your interest in crests? The personal connection seems first and foremost, considering that you yourself bear a crest, and so I wonder what else may lie there.

I am sure that someone who knew you less, would assume that you enjoy being allowed to lie in bed and sleep away your sickness, due to you being ‘lazy’, but that really couldn’t be further from the truth. Not only did it spark your interest, but it’s an obstacle that you refused to let slow you down. This leads me to think that perhaps your interest in crest research is similar then? That it was a problem that you weren’t satisfied with leaving unsolved.

Sincerely,

Claude

* * *

_ 30th of Ethereal Moon, 1186 _

To Claude

I was initially going to refute your claim and insist otherwise, but instead, it appears that you may be somewhat correct. I said that I went to the academy for the research and the library, but if I am, to be honest, the main reason was Caspar. If there had been no promise of knowledge awaiting me, I would have still most likely followed him. Some scholar I am? Being led by sentiment in the end. 

In truth, my first experience with crests truly should have put me off to the pursuit altogether. And quite frankly, it is harder to identify exactly why I found crests so alluring. Even now, as Edelgard intends to eradicate crests, and Professor Hanneman nears the completion of his research, I still find them gnawing at me in a way that I cannot explain. Perhaps that is it. Not only do I yearn to unravel crests themselves, but I also wish to understand why I am interested in the first place.

* * *

_ 5th of Guardian Moon, 1186_

To Linhardt

There is nothing wrong with letting your heart guide you. I know that I must be the same way in more parts of my life than I am willing to admit. I am curious what you mean about your first experience but, I think I might have a clue. I had to take more than my fair share of blood tests and submit to all sorts of prodding after arriving here. For a young kid, I am sure that could have even been scarring.

You aren’t just drawn by intellectual pursuits, but also by your feelings, huh? Or maybe, those are one and the same. Maybe that desire that draws you to learn more is the same one that draws you to other people? As you said, you are contacting me because of a fascination. It can’t just be intellectual because just about all my biographical facts of interest are out there in the open. So it must be something else then, huh?

* * *

_ 11th of Guardian Moon, 1186_

  
To Claude

Regardless of my feelings for you, I have no intention of indulging that suggestion further, not as things stand. Even someone as…socially challenged as myself can detect how comparatively closed off and distant you are being. Perhaps you expect me to interrogate you in return, however, as you said, just about all of the biological and historical facts I would need to learn about you are now freely at my disposal. 

For all your compliments of my abilities and my character, I feel hesitant to reply, because, I do not feel that I even know you well enough to make any concrete statements about you. Along with this, my upbringing as a noble has lead me to anticipate when others might have an eye to use me for their advantage. Not to say that I think ill of you for this, but our relationship as of yet is very clearly predicated on utility, and I am simply stating that I have no expectations of it progressing any much further than that.

Which is to say that yes, I appear to have more interest in you than simply academic, and I suspect that I may have always felt this way. 

Respectfully,

Linhardt

* * *

_ 17th of Guardian Moon, 1186_

To Linhardt

Probably the most intelligent thing I have said in this whole correspondence is that you really are full of surprises, dear Linhardt. And judging from the tone of your letter, I am betting that you assume that this assertion will, in fact, push me away. However, I dare say it has accomplished precisely the opposite.

You are exactly right, Linhardt. Even if I wish it wasn’t the case, I am always on the lookout for how my friends and associates can help me towards my goals. You mentioned that as a part of your upbringing as a noble? But for me, it was a matter of life and death. You’ve figured me out, Linhardt, at least that part of me. I am impressed, and the fact that you would so openly state as much has me fascinated even further. You clearly have felt compelled to continue communicating with me, even though it seems you have had this impression of me for several moons hence. 

I want to know more about you, Linhardt. And well, strictly speaking, I cannot exactly say that I want you to know more about me, but I am not about to resist giving you the opportunity to figure it out for yourself. 

Sincerely, 

Claude

* * *

(Along with Claude’s last letter, came a sealed letter with the imperial seal, which Linhardt opened before composing their reply.)

_ 23rd of Guardian Moon, 1186_

From The Office of her Imperial Majesty, Edelgard, first of her name, Emperor of Adrestia.

Linhardt, pardon the formalities, but this is a somewhat formal matter. I have sent the request for you to visit Almyra as a personal guest of the crown Prince. It would seem that Claude’s Ambassadorship is now official in all but name. However, we have made arrangements for you to visit the capital next moon, Predicated on attaining complete dynastic records of Almyra to be copied and housed in the empire. In return, you, of course, will be bringing our own Imperial records to be translated into Almyran. This will be the first show of goodwill, by allowing our nations to exchange this information, we will work on undoing the centuries of prejudice that have divided us.

Cordially, 

Edelgard

* * *

_23rd of Guardian Moon, 1186_  
To Edelgard

I know you're incredibly busy, your majesty, but you could have just stopped by to say all this. But since you went to the trouble of writing me a letter, I must only do the same in kind. Although I do not think there was any room to refuse, I accept this assignment. Even though I had no intention of refusing it either. You truly do know me perfectly, Edelgard. Not only do you know what I want, but you know the best way to make it all come true, with enough of an actual excuse so that if this all falls through, at least I'll still have something to occupy myself during my say.

I will say that, on top of everything, I never quite expected to have the Emperor play wing-woman. But I appreciate it all the same--

Linhardt  
  


* * *

To Linhardt,

To be quite frank, Linhardt, I scarcely think there is a member of the small council that does not know about your...interest, in the Almyran Prince by now. Your wistful stares may be unreadable to most people. But to us, your friends, we can tell. There is no need to thank me, Linhardt. This is purely a diplomatic function and a vital one at that. But regardless, I wish you the best and hope that you find whatever time you can spend with Claude to be enlightening and beneficial for yourself, above all else.

Edelgard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I have been making an Almyran conlang because so much of the LinClaude lore ends up revolving around almyran literature, I just had to make some. Part 2 will be more prose-based with some letters thrown in, but I hope this Epistolary experiment went well~ see you in the next part!


	2. II. The Glow of Something Magic in Your Reach

_ 14th of Pegasus Moon, 1187 _

_ Dear Caspar. _

_ As I write to you, it is quite late in the evening of the day of my arrival to the Almyran Capital. Despite me now having been in the country for several days, only now can I actually get a moment of rest. It was a tiring day of being shuffled about between various diplomats. Thankfully the nature of this visit means that my entourage can take care of most things for me. A carriage full of documents from Enbarr are now being stored in the Embassy’s Archives as we speak. _

_ Yes, despite Almyra not having furnished an ambassador to Fódlan in over a century, the building I am being housed in was explained to me as the Royal Embassy. And as I understand it, Claude himself is also being housed here, and not in the Royal Palace itself. I imagine that I will be able to officially meet him tomorrow, but my minders have assured me that I will have full access to the Embassy’s Archives to complete my work regardless. _

_ The city is beautiful, Caspar. I hope you can see it one day with me. I am expected to stay here at least one moon, and so perhaps you can even make your way towards the Throat to meet me on my return leg.  _

_ But that is still a ways off. I only hope that this letter finds you well. As always, do not feel pressured to reply. _

_ Linhardt _

Linhardt leans back in the desk chair, letting out a long sigh and setting the quill aside. Looking to the nearby window, Linhardt sees that the sun has now fully set below the horizon. With the letter finished, Linhardt all but ready to just collapse there when a sudden knock from the suite’s door is heard. 

“Hello? Who is it?”

“How about you take a wild guess?”

Linhardt’s gaze snaps to the door and a peculiar sensation runs down their spine. Linhardt pushes themself up from the desk and then stands up to open the door.

Linhardt places a hand on the doorknob, but does not immediately open it. “An honoured guest travels all the way from Enbarr, and you are not able to meet them at once?”

“I do apologise, my _liege_ ,” Claude says in and over exaggerated formal tone. “It was ever so negligent of me to not be in attendance when your presence graced these lands of my birth.”

Linhardt lets out a dry scoff. “No need to be so apologetic, I can think of more than a few ways you can make things up to me,” Linhardt says, teasingly without thinking. Linhardt then opens the door and is greeted by Claude, standing there with one arm leaning on the alcove wall that framed the door to Linhardt’s chambers.

Claude looked almost comically dashing, hair perfectly tousled, his clothes less than pristine. But gratefully he is not nearly as haggard when the two of them had last met. Claude was dressed in standard Almyran fare, high waisted pants secured with an elaborate sash, and a loose billowy blouse that was not properly tied at the collar. 

Linhardt themself was dressed in clothes provided for them by the Embassy staff. A lightweight tunic to help with the warmer weather. Their hair was mostly down, hanging loose around their face in uneven lengths. But from here, Linhardt was able to properly take in their height difference, Linhardt now standing quite a few centimetres taller than the former Alliance leader.

“Well then, I will await with bated breath to know how I can best appease your _highness_ ,”

Linhardt rolls their eyes. “I assume you came here with some other business, you can get on with it.”

“No other business, just here to properly greet my guest, and to invite them to dine with me after their long journey.”

“A bit late for dinner, I think,” Linhardt replies neutrally.

Claude then gives a cheeky grin. “Would you believe me if I told you this was the absolute earliest I was able to get done with all my duties today?”

Linhardt gives a noncommittal shrug. “My believing you has nothing to do with it. Where do you plan to entertain me, as you guest of honour?”

“Well, my plan was to take you by the kitchens to get some leftovers from the head chef, and then I was going to invite you to join me on the Embassy’s terrace on the third floor. Overlooking the gardens and the moon pool,” he grins. “And from here, we can also get a splendid view of the Palace.”

Linhardt’s face betrays the slightest bit of interest as they nod. “Very well, I will join you. I am here to learn all I can about this city, among other things.” Linhardt then glances back into their chambers. “Just wait a moment.”

Linhardt closes the door and rushes back to the desk, somewhat meticulously putting everything away. Linhardt then fished out another letter, as well as a white hair ribbon that was lying on the table. Holding the letter in their mouth, Linhardt ties back the long fringe of their hair into a loose bun and walks back out to rejoin Claude.

Upon leaving the chamber and closing the door behind them, Linhardt presses the letter into Claude’s chest. “Here. I wrote this in response to your last letter. But considering I was also assigned to travel here, I figured I would just deliver it myself.

“My my, how mysterious,” Claude grins, taking the letter while turning to offer Linhardt his arm. “Shall I read it in your presence? Or wait until I am alone in my chambers?”

“First, you will lead me to this dinner arrangement you have concocted. And from there we will see.”

“As you wish.”

And they did just that, Claude leading Linhardt dutifully by the arm, until they made a pit stop by the kitchens and left with their arms full of food. Claude glanced at Linhardt more than a couple times, Claude’s instincts pricking to see if Linhardt would care about the unorthodox dinner arrangements, but as it appeared, there was no issue.

But, it was still hard for Claude to be entirely sure, despite their so far very easy dynamic, they had not spoken in person very much at all. And even then, the few times they had spoken, Claude had clearly read Linhardt completely wrong.

They arrived at the 3rd-floor terrace, and Claude took the initiative to set out the food for the two of them while Linhardt sat down.

“Sorry about no candles. I figured you’d be at least as hungry as I am after a long day of work,” Claude says, feeling clearly at ease enough to start digging in. He pauses however when a sudden new source of light enters his field of view. Looking up, Claude sees that Linhardt has all but breathed into life a small flickering ball of flame in their palms. Despite seeing magic countless times before, Claude is for the moment, mesmerised. 

The soft light, how it plays off of the angles of Linhardt’s face, igniting two small flames in their sea-blue eyes, and then, with a puff of air and a gesture of their hands, the ball disperses, floating above their heads like a small swarm of fireflies. Claude continues to watch the lights, almost like a new set of stars but close enough to touch. And as he does so, Linhardt goes ahead and starts eating for themself. Claude lets out a small impressed huff and then joins Linhardt, eating in silence with the firelights drifting overhead. 

The two of them eat quietly, it is, however, not an awkward silence. Claude knows Linhardt to be reserved and quiet, but now, Claude knows that doesn’t necessarily mean that Linhardt does not wish to speak.

After Linhardt has finished a decent amount of their plate, Claude sets down his utensils and dabs at his mouth with a napkin. The etiquette they are partaking in is, quite Fódlani, but there is no reason to deviate from something that is still familiar to Linhardt so soon.

“How are you enjoying your accommodations so far?”

Linhardt pauses, setting down their utensil, dabbing at their mouth in an identical fashion with having looked at Claude first. “It is the first real bed I have seen in weeks of travel, and so really, any bed would seem like heaven to me now,” Linhardt looks up to meet Claude’s gaze. “However, I am not here for my _accommodations_ , however lavish,”

“Yes indeed, you have come to Almyra with a singular purpose,” Claude leans forward to rest his elbows on the table while looking back at Linhardt with a sly grin.

“That I have,” Linhardt replies. The table was small enough that either one could easily reach across the table to the other. But whether or not either would dare to…

“I can only hope that my insistence on sharing in your company will not distract from your goals,” Claude continues. 

“Quite the contrary. You inviting me here tonight gets me one step closer to what I’m really here for,” Linhardt replies with a grin, licking their lips in a way that had to be intentional.

“Is it now?” Claude asks, feeling almost daring enough to lean in closer, but something in Linhardt’s gaze gives him pause. That is, that gazing back into Linhardt’s eyes disarms Claude for but a moment. A serene, calm surface like the open sea.

Linhardt however leans in when Claude hesitates, and Claude finds himself even further enthralled. “The letter,” Linhardt states, their face close enough that Claude can feel their words against his lips.

“The letter…” Claude then blinks and pulls back in sudden realisation. “The letter! Of course,” he then reaches into his coat and pulls out the letter while still leaning forward on the table. “Then, do you want me to read it here, now?”

“Yes, I would very much like you to,” Linhardt then leans back, their previously passive expression shifting only slightly, to something almost like bemusement. 

Claude nods and opens the letter, trying not to betray the excitement that usually possessed him when opening a letter from them. Claude’s face then quickly becomes one of concentration as his eyes fall upon the familiar script.

_ Dear Claude, _

_ The fact that you have replied to me at all, tells me a great deal, and quite truthfully gives me great relief. I have come to anticipate your letters, even the official correspondences, and it would be a grave loss if I were to lose that on the back of an incorrect guess. But it seems that I was correct, and I am now prime to supposit more about you, it would seem.  _

_ I can only assume that you are at least as fond of me in return as I am of you, given your willingness to allow me to continue my prying. This still leaves many things left to be determined, that I intend to confirm when next we meet. As of this letter, I have been officially dispatched to visit Almyra as your personal guest, as well as perform an exchange of goodwill with the Crown.  _

_ I await your lavish accommodations with bated breath, _

_ Sincerely, _

_ Linhardt _

Claude’s mouth hangs open slightly at the letter, calculating everything in his mind. There had to be a reasoning behind all of it. The allusion to Linhardt’s true reason for coming here not being the books or his diplomatic mission at all; the insistence on not only hand delivering this letter, but making Claude read it in Linhardt’s presence. 

Why was Linhardt trying to make Claude think there was more than just academic or utilitarian interest here? Perhaps they could be friends, but Linhardt was being so much more forceful and, socially engaged than Claude could have ever anticipated. However, by Claude’s own admission, Linhardt had already subverted that expectation. 

What was Linhardt’s reasoning for being so comparatively open with Claude, when Claude was so closed off? It clearly bothered Linhardt, they even stated that it made Lin think that Claude didn’t have any fondness for Linhardt in return. But even that statement, could have been intentional, to try and bait out whatever Linhardt wants to know about Claude, to get him to be vulnerable. 

But Linhardt, they look _so_ gorgeous, right now in the flickering light of the floating fire wisps around the two of them. Linhardt has been evasive, but firm. Linhardt is here, now. There is no need for Claude to endlessly speculate, no more need for Claude to pour over Linhardt’s letters to try and decipher their meaning. Claude can just...Ask.

“Linhardt,” Claude begins, swallowing thickly before putting the letter down.

“Claude,” Linhardt replies, impassive again.

Claude wants to keep it up, wants to keep flirting and dancing but Claude also wants to know. “Linhardt, why are you here?” A simple question.

“I am here because Edelgard has sent me.”

“But why are you here at dinner, with me.”

“Because you invited me.”

“Why did you accept?”

Linhardt let out a short scoff. “Because I like you, obviously.”

Claude doesn’t have an immediate response to that. Instead, his mind starts spinning again. What kind of answer is that? Does he mean casual fondness? Linhardt mentioned a mutual fondness between them. Or does this mean romantic attraction? Again, Claude could just ask, but instead he continues to spiral until a jerk at the collar of his shirt takes him forward, and suddenly he feels the warmth of lips pressed against his own.

To anyone else, this could not have been any clearer, but to Claude, his mind insistently doubted it. Even so, any further anxious thoughts are drowned out by Lin’s insistence, their firm and almost hungry kiss. Claude would be lying if he tried to say he hadn’t been thinking about this. Since the moment Linhardt opened that door, Claude’s mind had additionally been filled with how soft Linhardt’s lips looked. But now, it was all that he could think about, and quite frankly, Claude almost liked it, not worrying about anything else, and just being lost in this new sensation.

But far too soon, Linhardt pulled away, and Claude was now faced with their deep blue eyes, shaded from the firelights’ glow by their proximity. 

“Linhardt...”

“I must profess, social engagement is not my strong suit. But I dare say that you have been interested in at least kissing me since you first greeted me here.”

Linhardt was right. Had Linhardt read him? Or was it just a lucky guess? 

“Heh, you say that, but you’ve been nothing but suave and composed since I first saw you,” he let out a laugh. “I can’t say the same about me. Frankly, I am completely caught off guard. I am starting to think that you surprising me is going to keep being a trend.”

“Eventually, I hope that no longer becomes the case,” Linhardt then let go of Claude’s collar and sat back in their chair.

Now, what did that mean? No longer surprising him? That could mean one of two things. Either, Linhardt intends for their relationship to be a short one; or, that Linhardt intends for Claude to become so close to Linhardt, that nothing that they do would come as a surprise.

“Do you now?” Claude replies coyly, resting a cheek on an open palm. “That is quite the proposition. How exactly do you expect to accomplish that?”

“For the moment, I am to be here until the end of Lone Moon. I highly doubt that my official duties will be enough to keep me occupied for the entirety of that time. And so, I hope to be able to accomplish some personal research, among other things.” 

“What sort of other things?”

Linhardt raises an eyebrow. “Claude, you are an incredibly smart man. I have no doubt you can figure it out for yourself but,” Linhardt stands up from the table and leans over to place a frightfully tender kiss against Claude’s forehead. “I am willing to give you a hint.”

Before Linhardt can pull away, Claude reaches out, catches Linhardt’s slender, beautiful fingers and draws them to his lips. Linhardt lets out a small gasp, their hand jerking slightly in Claude’s grip. Claude almost assumes this means disapproval, but Linhardt does not pull their hand away. Instead, Linhardt takes a hold of Claude’s hand and walks over to his side of the table. Claude then stands, allowing Linhardt to lead them by their joined hands to stand together at the railing of the balcony. 

The stars were visible overhead, infinite and glittering. Linhardt was clearly enthralled, and Claude couldn’t help but let out another contended huff. Their hands were still connected for the moment, and both felt a certain reluctance to let go, but Claude eventually did, pulling up his hand to gesture at the view before them.

“Like I promised, the best view from the embassy.” In the distance, they can see the tapered domes of the Almyran palace, shapes and contours of architecture that Linhardt had only ever seen in sketches before now. The whole Palace complex is illuminated by torches, the whole promenade littered with decorative pools and expansive gardens that glowed in the moonlight. “It’s not like Fódlan, that’s for sure,” Claude says, letting his hand fall back to rest on the railing between them.

Linhardt gives a small hum in reply, their gaze lingering somewhere in the distance. Claude turns to observe them, the firelights having followed their caster still hung over their heads in slow, drifting orbits. 

After a few moments, Linhardt notices Claude’s attention and glances over to meet his eyes. With the two of them standing again, Claude is looking up into those endless eyes, that inscrutable expression, and Claude himself feels himself even further pulled towards that intrigue. 

“From tomorrow, I intend to start my research in the archives,” Linhardt begins. The sudden introduction of work talk feeling like a dash of ice water over Claude’s head.

“Ah, yes. Of course.”

“I would like to see you again tomorrow, at your earliest convenience.”

“Of course.”

“Your offer to help teach me Almyran. Was that, genuine?”

Claude lets out a short laugh. “If you mean, would I like to teach you? Yes, I would. Will I have the time to make you fluent in the language before you return? Almost definitely not. But, I am genuinely interested in tutoring you.”

“Good,” Linhardt then pushes themself back from the balcony and turns to leave, but not in any sort of haste. “I enjoyed tonight. But as you alluded to earlier, I am,” a yawn. “Very tired from today,”

“Of course,” Claude says, moving to join them. “Please, allow me to escort you back to your chambers,”

Linhardt gladly takes Claude’s arm again, holding much tighter and closer to Claude than before. 


	3. III. And Enemies

**15th of Pegasus Moon, 1187**

Claude is by now used to that nervous uptick in his heart-rate that usually accompanies interactions such as these. The dizzying speed of his thoughts as he desperately tries to assess whether or not his life is in danger, it’s been with him for so long he could almost call it one of his dearest friends. 

But he finds that he just wishes his mind would quiet itself, even if just for a moment. Just so that he can perhaps appreciate the pleasant smell of Linhardt’s hair and the comfortable silence that lingers between them as they walk back to Linhardt’s chambers.

Back in his own room, Claude leans heavily against the closed door, putting a hand to his flushed face and sliding to the floor with a heavy sigh. He has to get his thoughts in order. There are countless deals and duties to accomplish the next day, he can’t afford to be spiralling and sleepless. Especially if he wants to make the most of Linhardt’s visit here.

Linhardt...he was here for the next moon at least. But he could stay longer, there was so much the two of them could do to bring their nations closer together. Linhardt was smart, he could become functionally fluent in almyran in a matter of months and work with translators and oversee the works translated into Fódlani. With Linhardt’s help, the people of Adrestia could start to shed their biases of the “eastern menace”

_Then why...why can’t I stop thinking about Linhardt’s lips?_

Desperate for anything to distract himself, Claude sits down at his desk. If only Claude had a mind to be more organised, then perhaps doing so would have helped. But this is his personal desk, not his official office. And as such, the polished wooden surface is strewn with personal letters. A letter from Holst, asking after Hilda and Balthus, to which Claude had promptly replied. 

And eventually, that had lead to their current situation. Hilda, after spending the better part of her year here in Almyra, was finally ready to head home, for at least a time. As close as she was to Claude, there was only so much she could accomplish in a land not only foreign to her but one hostile to her Goneril blood. 

Two weeks prior, Balthus and Hilda had departed to Goneril. Balthus said that he would be back, but a part of Claude doubted that he would keep that promise. Balthus had deep ties in Goneril, even if his relations with Leicester as a whole were rather shakey.

Claude lets out another sigh and reaches into his pocket, pulling out Linhardt’s last letter. He places it in the pile, along with the rest of Linhardt’s correspondences. In truth, Claude had been quite worried by the absence of a reply, and so was grateful that he could finally add this last reply to the pile. 

Claude busies himself with other personal letters. Writing to the few of his siblings that didn’t still want him dead, as well as his remaining friends in Leicester. Eventually, Exhaustion gets the better of him, and Claude collapses at his desk into a fitful sort of sleep.

The sound of a fist pounding repeatedly against his door suddenly drags Claude back into waking. He shoots upright as panic immediately grips him before his surroundings fill in around him. 

“Balthus!?” He asks after a few moments.

A deep belly laugh floats through the door in response. “That’s right boss! Balthus is back, and I’ve got something for ya!”

Claude stands up, hastily smoothing his hair back before staggering to the door. 

Even though Claude knew to brace for what was coming, it was still not as simple as being prepared. As soon as the door was open, Balthus wasted no time in grabbing Claude into a rib-crushing bear hug.

“Balthus!” Claude gasps as he even feels himself be lifted a few lengths off the floor.

Claude is eventually released with a heavy pat on his back. Claude manages to pull out a grin and looks up at his friend. “So!” Claude begins. “I trust escorting our fair lady back to her homeland went smoothly?”

“Yeah! Of course,” Balthus says, not even asking before striding over and sitting down on Claude’s bed. Claude however didn’t exactly mind and went back to turn his desk chair to face the bed. “Hold up,” Balthus says, reaching into a satchel at his waist. 

“Oh?” Claude steps over to take what appeared to be a letter and then sits back down at his desk chair. It’s from Hilda. Claude doesn’t exactly want to read it while Balthus is still present, but he isn’t about to kick the man out so soon.

“Well, I know that if anything had happened to Hilda, Holst wouldn’t have let you come back in one piece.”

Balthus gives an obvious shudder. “You can say that again.”

Claude places Hilda’s letter back on his desk. “You know I’m happy to see you as ever, but you should know above all, that I hardly have the time for social calls.”

Balthus waves his hand. “Yeah yeah I know that. I’ll be sure to get back to work soon enough, but,” he places both hands on his thighs and gives Claude a serious look. “That Linhardt guy from the Empire is here right? I heard some guards chatting about it.”

Claude stiffens at the mention of Linhardt’s name but remains overall composed. “Yeah, he’s here. Just down the hallway, actually.”

Balthus gives a surprisingly solemn nod before pushing himself up into a standing position. “You seemed really nervous about him finally coming over, so I’ll be sure to keep a close eye on him,”

“Wait,” Claude stands up to try and stop whatever Balthus might be planning. “Linhardt’s our guest. Don’t do anything weird, okay?”

“Sure thing! I’ll be discrete,”

“Discrete in _what?_ ”

Balthus gives Claude a quizzical look. _“I just said, didn’t I? He’s from the Empire, our ally sure, and he was your classmate. But I’ll make sure he doesn’t try anything funny.”_

_Claude shakes his head. “Funny? Balthus, Linhardt is not a spy,”_

_Balthus still seems a bit confused, crossing his arms. “I’m not saying that I suspect the guy but,” his brows crease in seemingly deep concentration._ “I guess I’m just a little confused is all. Why were you so jumpy if you weren’t worried he’d pull something shady?”

Claude then finally unknits the puzzle. He has the answer, but he doesn’t exactly want to say it out loud. Hilda had been kind enough to keep her knowledge of Claude’s very obviously building crush to knowing glances and gentle prods when they were alone. 

“I appreciate your concern, Balthus. But trust me, I don’t think Linhardt is going to try and kill me,” that was not entirely true. Claude still worried that Linhardt might secretly be plotting to kill him, but Claude worried that about everyone. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, not anything that Balthus or anyone else should concern himself with. 

Balthus nods. “Alright,” he then pats the satchel at his waist again. “I actually have a letter for him too. I can just drop it off then,” Balthus says while standing up. 

“Nah that’s fine I’ll do it,” Claude says without thinking, walking over to Balthus with his hand outstretched.

Balthus looks at Claude for a brief moment before promptly handing the letter over. “Thanks, I actually have to go check in with the guard captain anyway. I’ll see you around then,” Balthus says, clapping Claude heavily on the shoulder before leaving rather promptly. 

Claude is left just standing there for a moment. A letter from Hilda, and a letter to Linhardt in his hands. Claude puts the Hilda letter down on his desk and then walks briskly out the door and down the hallway.

Linhardt surely isn’t awake yet, Claude thinks, and so he hesitates to knock on the door. Claude did say he would try to speak to Linhardt this day, but he honestly did not have the time. Claude would be pushing it by reading and replying to Hilda’s letter as he planned to do, in all honesty. And so Claude carefully slides the letter under Linhardt’s door and then jogs back down the hallway.

How pathetic, Claude’s heart rate had increased just from that alone?

Claude sits back down at his desk and finally opens the letter.

Dear Claude,

I have only just made it safely back to Goneril, so I don’t have much to report, but I figured I should let you know I’m safe as soon as I can. It’s pretty crazy being back, so much has changed and yet a lot has stayed the same. My brother is just as insufferable as ever, and even worse so when he’s with Balthus. I can never tell if those two are going to break out into a brawl or end up in some kind of passionate embrace.

Uhg, it’s gross to think about, Balthus is like my older brother too. But I swear, those two just need to get up the courage to say how they really feel!

I jest, maybe. Possibly. Honestly, I’d rather not think too hard about either of their love lives. And with Holst, I am going to be working closely with him for the next year or so, so I best not do anything that pisses him off I think.

Anyway, I’ll make sure to keep you updated as much as I can. I know I am going to be busy, and just about everyone I’ve ever met is already clamouring to have tea with me on top of everything else. Already I’ve been assailed with questions. About Almyra, about you. They keep asking me if we are engaged, can you believe that?!

Well, I had to let down my father’s hopes on that front, at least for now. Although I’m not sure how much he will buy us being ‘just friends’, I’ll keep trying to convince him. 

With Love,

Hilda

Claude runs his hands through his hair and lets out a heavy sigh. Oh, limitless gods of fate, how complex a woman Hilda truly was. Claude could not afford to spiral over her letter and so he grabs a pen immediately and sets to writing to try and clear his head. 

‘To my dearest Hilda,’

Claude smirks a bit to himself at how easily the familiar address comes out. He thinks a moment before starting the next line. 

‘I appreciate your haste in writing to me, and as such, I cannot leave you without a prompt reply. Balthus did seem in pretty good spirits now that you mention it. I am sure that all they need is time, and their love can blossom into one for the ages~’ While Claude hopes it is taken as a joke, like Hilda, there’s something sneaking in the back of his mind that makes him think those two buffoons might just actually be in love with one another. 

‘Yesterday, Linhardt finally made their way to the capital.’ Hilda knew, Hilda knew even before Claude himself had known, that Claude’s interest in the mage was never just academic. 

_‘Their own journey happened without issue, and with a whole carriage of books in tow! We have a lot of work ahead of us, but I think it is going to go just fine,’_

There was a comical amount of failure points, as with any diplomatic endeavour, but now wasn’t the time to indulge that. 

‘I wasn’t able to get out of my obligations until late, which meant a trip to the kitchen and a private dinner on the terrace with my honoured guest. But they didn’t seem to mind.’ 

Linhardt was difficult to read as ever, but had still been so explicitly clear. Why then did doubt still crowd his mind? Perhaps because his position drew countless people who just wanted him for his influence, or to seduce him to accomplish their goals. It had been almost impossible to push that aside, even when Claude had finally let Hilda into his heart. It seemed that now, it still wasn’t going to get any easier. 

‘Linhardt did this thing with fire magic that made it like a bunch of fireflies were surrounding us, or like the starts had descended from the heavens to orbit us instead.’ 

Just thinking about it made Claude feel a little warm once again. 

_‘Also guess what. Linhardt did write a reply to my last letter. And he delivered it to me in person! Linhardt too seems to have a bit of a flare for the dramatic.’_

Linhardt had demanded those things of Claude, and Claude had so quickly and eagerly complied. 

_‘For some reason, I almost wish I could just write a reply by hand, almost seems easier.’_

I would be, then Claude wouldn’t have to risk being pulled in by that moonlit gaze, or being distracted by his elegant hands. 

‘Don’t feel pressured to reply, dear Hilda...I am not exactly flush with free time either. Also if you run into Marianne, please give her my regards.’

News of her having returned to Edmund had eventually found its way back to Claude. Linhardt had been worried about her too.

‘I’ll be happy knowing that she’s safe and sound. Doesn’t matter she sided with the empire in the war, I hope she knows that. ’

Claude sets the quill-pen down and runs both hands through his hair. He would finish the rest of the letter to Hilda later after more work was done. But now at least, he felt just a little calmer. 

He puts that latter aside and then pulls up the, unfortunately, more pressing matters. He is still full of energy, although he really should think about eating soon. 

The hours slide by. Claude finishes his letter to Hilda in between his other work and finally forces himself up to find something to eat. Despite everything, he does walk back Linhardt’s bedroom on his way to the kitchens. The thought crosses his mind, but he resists it. Linhardt will be busy with getting his bearings in his new working environment. Later, Claude insists to himself. Later, perhaps they can even share another meal together if the opportunity presents itself.

Claude once in the vicinity of his official office is given no time to rest with diplomat after official seeming to need his attention. Receiving an official Adrestian guest was quite the ordeal, and countless inquiries and requests were now flooding into the embassy. Claude tirelessly fielded every single one, just managing to scarf down enough food to stay standing in between the dizzying workload. 

And by the time he does make it back to his bedroom, it is evening once again. There is another set of personal letters on his desk, and he has already sent his letter to Hilda off to Goneril.

Claude leans heavily on his desk, needing almost to catch his breath. 

His eyes then inevitably fall to where he had placed Linhardt’s last letter. After sitting back down, he pushes it aside to compare it to the one before it. Claude wonders if this will be the last letter Claude receives from Linhardt? Claude can’t help but feel a little sad at that prospect.

Despite this, Claude pulls out a small piece of paper and writes out a short message to Linhardt.

‘Even if my duties mean I cannot see as soon as I wish, I look forward to finding you in the archives when I do.’ 

Yours,

Claude

Claude then carefully folds the note and stows it away before hopping up from his desk with an odd spring in his step. It was just a note. Why was he excited? It’s not as if they had made solid plans that day, but Claude still was sad that he hadn’t been able to meet Linhardt at all that day. Hopefully tomorrow, the fates willing. And really, this bothersome feeling in Claude’s chest made it so that he just wanted to make sure that Linhardt knew. 

Claude was so lost in his thoughts that he very nearly walked clean past Linhardt’s room and had to backtrack. It had been nearly two hours since they parted, and so Claude very much expected Linhardt to be asleep by then. Claude then approached and knelt before the door to slide the note underneath. But just as he did, a sudden sound assaulted his ears.

A noise, almost like a gasp, it was definitely Linhardt, but Claude felt that something was off immediately. Claude could not move for the moment as another burst of sounds followed, these being very obviously...sobs.

Linhardt was crying. Linhardt was crying? For some reason that triggered a note of panic in Claude’s mind. What happened? Was it because of something that Claude had said or did? Claude’s fist then clenched as an even worse idea came to him. Almyrans had their own sets of prejudices about Fodlaners, did someone say something to upset Linhardt?

There was no way to know, not from the sobs alone at least. Claude finished sliding the note under the door, as silently as he could, assuming he wouldn’t be heard. But instead, Claude heard the noises inside stop. Another gasp was heard and then a set of footsteps rapidly approaching the door. Claude felt that familiar urge in the back of his mind, to run and to run now. But instead, he stood there like a deer in the torchlight as Linhardt collected the note and then immediately opened the door.

Linhardt, once so composed and elegant, was now a tousled mess. For some reason, Linhardt had no hesitation in showing their disheveled self to Claude, and that alone was oddly disarming. Linhardt still stood taller than Claude, and like this, Linhardt felt towering, looming, and Claude had to crane his neck as he finally got back into a standing position.

“Hey,” Claude finally ventured. “What’s wrong?” His voice was low and gentle, not expecting an honest answer.

“Nothing,” Linhardt replied, breaking eye contact after what had felt like ages. “Well, nothing that you can immediately help me with, at least.” That reply visibly deflated Claude, and Linhardt took notice. Linhardt’s eyes then seemed to more carefully consider Claude. They then took that moment to unfold and read the note that Claude had bothered to deliver. Linhardt let out a short sigh. “Well, I am not sure what I expected,” they then turned back to meet Claude’s gaze. “I expect that is all that you came here to do then? If you’ll excuse me—”

“Wait—” Claude said suddenly, seeming to Linhardt to be assaulted by some sudden impulse. Linhardt chose to pause in closing the door and hear Claude out.

“Yes?”

“That letter. It was from Hapi, right?”

Linhardt’s face remains impassive. “Yes, it was,” Linhardt says, gripping Claude’s note tightly in his hand.

“Well, I’m glad you got news from home so soon.”

Linhardt shrugs. 

Claude wanted to go further, to do something, but he was at a loss as to what. He stares at Linhardt a little longer before tentatively lifting it towards Linhardt’s face. Linhardt regards the gesture with confusion at first but does not make to stop him. Claude pulls his sleeve over his palm to dab away at Linhardt’s cheeks.

Claude then forces a huff. “I would sure hate to be the one who made you cry like that,”

Linhardt sighs. “It was not because of anything you did. You made it very clear that you would likely not be able to see me today.”

Claude’s hand lingers for a few moments longer by Linhardt’s face. “How about I keep you company here for a little bit? I have the time now, after all.”

Linhardt stares back at Claude. “Forgive me, but. As you can see, I am not exactly in any sort of state to…entertain you at the moment,” Linhardt says with a sniff

Claude lets out a gentle laugh. “Not to worry my friend. In all honesty, I might just end up taking a nap on your sofa.”

Linhardt regards Claude evenly and then the corners of his mouth quirk up into a smile. “By all means. And actually, i will be up for a while longer, I still have…letters to reply to.”

“And I would not dream of keeping you from it.”

Linhardt’s expression is rather soft. but in lieu of stepping aside to let Claude in, Linhardt instead leans in and places a brief kiss on Claude’s cheek. Claude is left slightly stunned and only moves when Linhardt drags him along gently by the wrist.


	4. IV. And now, Breathe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this is a new chapter 4, it happens concurrently with the new version of chapter 3. If you're an old reader, please read the new version of chapter 3 to catch up! chapters 1 and 2 are largely the same apart from the mention of Balthus and Hapi being added.

_15th of Pegasus Moon, 1186_

Linhardt does eventually wake up the next morning, rolling out of bed with thoughts of the night before still swirling around in his head. He knows that there is much to do, he is here to do a job after all, but he was told by his handlers upon arrival yesterday that would still at least have to wait until tomorrow. Undoubtedly Claude would be completely busy as well as he had warned.

Standing up, Linhardt paces around to try and at least wake up a little. He gives a cursory glance out the window, seeing that it may very well be afternoon for all he knows. Eventually, his feet carry him to a newly appeared point of interest.

There in front of the door, rests a letter that must have been slid inside while he was asleep. A small prick of foolish hope flares up, that then transforms into a far more complicated emotion once he sees who it is from. Linhardt however takes the letter carefully in his hands and makes his way back to the desk.

Sitting down, he sees that before passing out, he had begun writing a letter to Dorothea. And so for the moment, he sets Hapi’s letter aside, and picks up his quill pen to resume last night’s work.

‘Dearest Dorothea.’

‘As of right now, I have already written a letter intended for Caspar that I am sure will be received by either your or Edelgard in reality, but I still wanted to address you personally.’

Linhardt pauses, and feels already a bit like he is nursing a headache.

‘I have reason to recount to you the events of my first night in the Almyran Embassy. but I beg of you, do not get your hopes up. It is not nearly so salacious as I am sure you could imagine.’

‘Claude invited me to dinner. Leftovers from the kitchen that we ate together on a balcony. I provided some magical lighting for the meal, which he seemed to be particularly enchanted by. I remember Claude always being rather mystified by magic, which used to confuse me. But now, knowing where he grew up, it is less surprising.’

‘I had been holding onto my final letter to Claude, knowing that it could even arrive after I myself did. I knew it would be easier to communicate through written word, at least, that was my hope. When the letter did not appear to clarify things, I resorted to kissing him.’

‘Dorothea, he appeared quite reticent to the idea that I might have actually come here to see him. I am not sure how I am meant to interpret this. Interacting with him in person was far different than I anticipated. He is evasive, but still so very warm and charming.’

‘I must admit, Dorothea. I find myself almost frightened. Claude has said that he is interested in me in return, but I still cannot fully unknit what he means.’

‘Like before, in our letters, he is reserved and cautious. Despite his lack of verbal confirmation, I am very tempted to take his flirtation and attention at face value, even if it becomes clear that it was merely a false pretence.’

‘While I wish to ask you to take your time in replying, in truth, I also feel a sense of urgency, and a wish that I had listened a little closer to what advice you did offer me before i left.’

‘With affection,

Linhardt’

Linhardt lets out a heavy sigh and manages to push the still-wet parchment out of the way before resting his head on the carved wooden surface. Exhausting, but necessary. This was an area that Dorothea possessed much more expertise in that Linhardt himself did, and so he would be foolish to act so arrogant as to not need help. But even then, he might very well still be over his head. As so often, his efforts to run away from and ignore the things that pain him oft lead to more sorrows than joys.

But despite that, despite how much it pained him, he could not ignore this.

Linhardt reaches out and pulls open Hapi’s letter, reading it with his head turned to the side on the desktop.

_To Linhardt_

_Hey, it’s me, Hapi. I just hope you made it alright. I wanted to have a letter in time for you to arrive in Almyra, I figured you might be lonely. Caspar still isn’t back here but I know you’ll be told as soon as he is. I think he took a job in Leicester though, something about another one of his school friends coming back? I didn’t catch a lot of it, but I’m sure Edelgard or someone will tell you the details._

_I do actually miss you, a little bit, but not as much as Lysithea clearly does. She keeps checking in your office most every day as if you’ll suddenly reappear in a puff of magic smoke. I keep telling her just to write a letter herself, but who knows if she will actually go through with that._

_I think I really wish that I could have gone with you. I’ve never seen Almyra, I’ve never even been outside of Fodlan yet. So you better promise to take me with you next time._

_Okay. I know you are probably still worried, but I promise I’m fine. The side effects of your treatment are finally fully wearing off. I’m still say sleepier than normal, but at least the vertigo is gone and I don’t feel like vomiting. I know you didn’t want to leave while I was still sick, so I hope this soothes your worries._

_I don’t mind being left behind this time, but since I’m not so much a danger anymore, I hope you can take me with you next time. I get this is official business, and there’s not much time for leisure for you at least, but surely I could just tag along? I’ll make sure to stay out of yours and Claude’s hair. Especially with Balthus there, I can just follow him around instead._

_I know you aren’t actually there alone but I still am a bit worried about you. So make sure to write, okay?_

_Yours,_

_Hapi_

By the time he has finished, Linhardt finds a certain thickness having welled up in his throat. Indeed, it had been extremely difficult to leave Hapi when she was still suffering from the results of his treatments. Although as much as he wanted to stay with her and care for her, a very large part of him just wanted to run away. It was difficult enough to see Hapi suffering in general. Linhardt’s care for her had lead them to this conclusion in the first place. He saw how she suffered from isolation due to her crest, and as he grew fond of her, he had wanted to dispel that suffering.

And yet, the procedures required to reverse the damage done by Cornelia, had brought her only more suffering.

Once again, Linhardt had simply run away instead of trying to actually face his problems. How pathetic was he. And like always, his running just caused him to run head-first into a fresh new batch of problems.

At that moment however, Linhardt hears some someone approaching from down the hallway. A mixture of hope and fear prick in his chest as he hears the footsteps slow outside of his door. However, he doesn’t hear a knock, or a voice call out. He can hear that it is Claude, even through the door, Linhardt can pick up his breathing and the sound of him clearing his throat. On top of the fact there were few others that had reason to call upon him directly in his chambers.

Linhardt rushes forward with little care about his current state. He sees a note being pushed through the crack below the door, and before Claude can disappear again, Linhardt opens the door.

Linhardt then looks upon Claude’s face, which he finds to be a relief and comfort in his current state of deep distress. Claude however, reacts with abject surprise.

But thankfully, Claude did not resist when Linhardt finally beckoned Claude into his room.

Claude settled onto Linhardt’s couch just as Claude had said. Linhardt wipes his face and pulls his hair back as best as he can.

The silent is strained an awkward for a few moments, at least by Claude’s reckoning. Linhardt, however, is too focused on trying to find the words to reply to Hapi with.

“So, have you replied to Hapi yet?”

“No.”

“Is that what you are working on right now?”

“I am attempting to, at least.”

“Hey uh, feel free to disregard if it’s too personal but. Is Hapi’s letter the reason you were crying?”

Linhardt pauses. “Not exactly.”

“I see.”

They remain silent for a few long moments, and Claude closes his eyes, but he doesn’t hear the scratching of Linhardt’s quill.

Eventually, he appears to give up, and Claude hears Linhardt start to approach.

Claude cannot help but open his eyes and sit up. Partly out of paranoid instinct, but also out of a desire to perhaps entice Linhardt to his side. “Done already?”

Linhardt frowns and strides towards where Claude is seated on the couch. Claude watches Linhardt very carefully, which Linhardt takes note of. But Linhardt does keep moving and sits down next to Claude on the sofa. “You were right, Claude. Hapi’s letter did cause me to cry but, not necessarily anything that she said specifically.”

“Oh?” Claude leans in, a bit of his general curiosity creeping through his polite interest.

“I had to leave Hapi while she was in the midst of recovery.”

“Is she okay?” Claude asks, the assertion that Linhardt didn’t mention this in his letters being implicit.

“She said that her symptoms have subsided since my departure. Which I did project...as a possibility,” he grimaces. “Although it was just as likely that her symptoms would persist or increase.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, what was her condition?”

Linhardt shrugs. “Side effects from a magical procedure.”

“Was the procedure...successful?”

“In that it returned her crest abilities to their natural state?—yes.”

Claude nods solemnly. “Wait, you are gonna have to fill me in a bit. There was something wrong with her crest?”

Linhardt sighs. He then explains as briefly as he can, the rumours which Claude was already aware of, supplementing things he had heard from Balthus. Claude did know about her ability, about her captivity and experimentation from Cornelia. But he had not known about her attractiveness to monsters being a perversion of her crest ability.

“So, you were able to fix her crest after all, huh?”

Linhardt remains silent, not meeting Claude’s eyes.

Claude observes Linhardt’s expression, thinking back to one of their very first letters.

Then, in lieu of speaking, Claude very slowly reaches over to take a hold of Linhardt’s hand.

“Hey,” Claude breathes. Causing Linhardt to start slightly and turn towards Claude.

Claude gulps, always finding Linhardt’s gaze to be even just slightly overwhelming. “You did your best, Linhardt. You found a way to help her. And the side-effects are decreasing. You did a good job as her doctor, and friend.”

“But I also took the first opportunity to abandon her when I could.” Linhardt states, his face blank apart from the slightest quivering of his bottom lip.

Claude presses his lips together and squeezes Linhardt’s hand.“You don’t have to stay here longer than you need, you know.”

Linhardt then suddenly frowns, meeting Claude’s gaze. “I intend to stay here as long as what was agreed upon. The plans for this were formed moons ago and there was no need to change the finally selected date.”

“Yeah I know but—”

“I came here for you, Claude,” Linhardt scowls, placing one hand on his jaw. Claude’s grip loosens slightly on Linhardt’s hand as he finds himself starting to once again become lost in those endless eyes. “Perhaps it is foolish of me, but I cannot help but be drawn to your mystery, as infuriating as it is,” he whispers, as his face starts to grow closer to Claude’s with every passing second.

Claude’s pulse starts to speed up, and his composure starts to come harder and harder. Just like before, Claude finds himself drawn to and overwhelmed by the memory of Linhardt’s soft lips. He knows that he should listen and be here for Linhardt, as Linhardt was being very open and quite vulnerable. But his impulses drew him to forget those fears and anxieties in Linhardt’s embrace.

But already, he was feeling his fear about such closeness also start to heighten.

But before Claude can dwell further, Linhardt has closedthe distance between them their lips. Every other thought in Claude’s head completely vacates.

As if by instinct, Claude leans into his kiss, letting his lips fall open and reaching one hand into Linhardt’s silky hair. Maybe it’s clear enough that Claude had been wanting to do this last night. But due to the circumstances, the dried tears on Linhardt’s cheeks— Claude still holds back for the moment. He lets his hand fall from Linhardt’s hair and instead rests it on his back as he pulls away.

Claude half expects Linhardt to insist in prolonging the kiss, but instead, he ducks his head to the side and buries his face in Claude’s neck. Even without words, Claude feels as if he understands, just a little bit. Linhardt's shoulders quiver and his hands knot tightly into the fabric of Claude's shirt. 

"I'm sorry," Linhardt whispers. "I really am in no state to entertain you this evening..."

"Hey," Claude breathes, threading his fingers through Linhardt's hair. "I told you not to worry about that, okay? You're my guest. And i'm here," he says, lifting a thumb to wipe a tear from Linhardt's cheek. "Just hold onto me as long as you need."

Linhardt lets out a wet chuckle. Not yet fully beleiving that Claude does not still have some other motive. But truthfully it's far too tempting to just forget everything in Claude's arm. Once morning breaks they will be torn apart to their separate duties, and so Linhardt feels no guilt in clinging as hard as he can for as long as Claude will allow him.


	5. Stepping Without Breaking Underneath

The Almyran Embassy’s Archives. Countless tomes, a sea of parchment scrolls, towering shelves full to bursting with magnificent volumes.

All, completely and utterly useless to Linhardt.

Linhardt sits at a desk, surrounded by stacks of paper, parsing through the Almyran Royal Records that are to be brought back to Adrestia in a readable format when they themself return to Enbarr. Even without being prompted, Linhardt had studied Almyran as much as he could before coming, but found that the attempts to speak it was met with bemusement or even laughter. That was beyond infuriating. Especially when about all of the Embassy staff that Linhardt has encountered all speak Fódlani, far more than Linhardt can even hope to produce of Almyran.

Linhardt had, however, been assigned a translator upon arrival, who, since arriving had been focusing all their efforts on translating the records that Linhardt had brought. Translating Fódlani into Almyran was that translator’s specialty, not the other way around, and certainly not in the business of teaching the Almyran language to foreigners.

This left Linhardt at somewhat of a loss for the past couple of days. The day after their arrival had been an array of meetings, an apologetic note from Claude, eventually leaving the young scholar where they were now, in the Embassy’s archives. 

For the moment, Linhardt was doing what they could, transliterating and formatting the dynastic record of the Almyran Royalty, which was a task in and of itself. Linhardt’s understanding of the language and culture meant that he could easily change over the names, titles, and basic physical descriptions that came with the records. It was easy enough to make the family tree, following the main royal family down the generations. However, it was becoming clear that the different political structures would soon prove to complicate things.

When Linhardt was bored of that, they found their way around the shelves, using a note given to them by the translator to navigate the archives. This place was mostly for official diplomatic records; copies of treaties, dynastic records of the many, many powerful princesses and princes that ruled various territories around the kingdom. 

Even learning the Almyran script did them little favours in knowing what was before their very eyes. But curiosity always seemed to get the better of Linhardt. Deep in the poetry section, Linhardt traces their fingers over the elegant spines, seeming almost in a trance until their attention was broken by a sudden hand entering their field of view.

“Trouble finding what you’re looking for?” It was Claude’s voice, and then his hand covers Linhardt’s where it rests on the book.

Linhardt would normally be thrilled to hear that warm voice and feel that soft touch, but instead Linhardt jerks back and slaps Claude’s hand away. Linhardt glanced briefly at Claude, giving him a scowl that is reflected back with Claude’s look of utter confusion. “Uh…sorry to have disturbed you?”

Linhardt never intended to give this sort of hot and cold response. The last time they had met, they had been kissing in the doorway to Linhardt’s bedroom after all. Linhardt knew it would fall on them to try and rectify this situation, even though Claude had been the one to startle the mage. 

“You aren’t disturbing me, I just wasn’t expecting—” _to suddenly be touched by the man I all but came to see without warning._

Linhardt then reached down into the satchel at their hip and pulls out a single leather-bound tome.

Claude’s interest was piqued by the book as Linhardt presented it to him, the title and the decorative Almyran engravings being enough to make him forget his earlier confusion. “Oh…this must be the poetry reader you liberated from Garreg Mach,”

Linhardt gives a small smirk at that description, pulling the book back into both of their hands and opening it to a bookmarked page. Linhardt then turned the book back around for Claude to see. “This poem is my favourite. And I was curious if I could find full anthology by this particular author,”

Claude places a hand to his chin. “The Wayward Dreams, by Evran of Inkar,” Claude nodded. “I see, I see. You’re in luck. That poet had a collection published after her death, and is one of the standards in the Almyran canon.” Claude then turned his eyes to the shelf and then strained to pull an ornate book off the 5th shelf. Linhardt put their own book back into the satchel at their waist and took a step closer to Claude to get a look at the new book. 

Claude seemed to be wary of how close the two of them got, But Linhardt pulled as close as possible, hoping to subtly rectify the early misunderstanding if possible.

“Here,” Claude said. “You’re free to peruse it at your leisure. I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Wait,” Linhardt said suddenly, grabbing Claude by the sleeve. Claude glanced back at Linhardt, clearly surprised again. “You just took me off guard earlier. Now you seem to think I want nothing to do with you?”

Claude let out a nervous chuckle. “It’s okay Linhardt. You always liked being left alone when reading, right?”

Linhardt presses their lips together. “Claude, are you really forgetting that I can’t read this book without your help?”

“What happened to that translator I assigned you?”

“She’s busy, doing her _actual_ work. But I…” Linhardt pauses. “I’m useless. I’m more ignorant of this language than an infant.”

Claude takes in Linhardt’s expression and leans in, lifting a hand to gently brush a stray lock of hair from their face. “Hey now, you’re one of the most brilliant scholars I know. You are far from useless.”

Linhardt’s cheeks flush slightly and their hands tighten around the book. “You promised you would help me.”

“That I did.”

“So if you’re free to see me right now, does that mean you can help me for a while?”

Claude nods. “That I sure can, if that’s what you really want.”

Linhardt’s lips turn into a pout, their head then suddenly dipping down to plant a short kiss on Claude’s cheek.

Linhardt then brushed past Claude, leading him back to where Linhardt had set up on a wide table in the central area. Claude stood there, shocked for a few moments before regaining his senses and staggering after Linhardt. “Hey, wait a second!” Linhardt, however, keeps walking briskly, out of the closed-off poetry section and back to the main room. 

Linhardt sat back down at the study table, making room amongst the notes and manuscripts. Before Claude could sit down, Lin gestured to the empty spot on the bench right next to themself.

“Hey, Linhardt, time out,” Claude said, sitting down where directed and watching Linhardt organize their working space. “What was…what was that?” Claude gestures to his cheek. “You act like you’re pissed at me and then you—”

“Already I am beginning to see, that where words fail with you, actions often become necessary,” Linhardt says by way of reply, although it leaves Claude still mystified.

“Now what does _that_ mean?”

“I told you that you weren’t disturbing me. And I told you that I wanted you to stay and help me. But regardless, you still didn’t seem to get it, so I attempted to get my feelings across by different means.”

Claude lets out a short huff. “I mean, yeah, kissing me out of nowhere is going to get a different response,”

Linhardt frowns. “Then do you think I was lying? And that I really actually wanted you to leave me alone?”

“I mean, I wouldn’t put it like that.”

“I am not capable of lying. Not easily at least,” Linhardt’s gaze is serious and unwavering, and Claude meets that gaze, slightly transfixed. Linhardt’s sudden intensity being enthralling to him. 

Claude smirks. “Well now, how do I know you’re not just lying about that?”

Linhardt frowns.

“Okay—okay, that was a joke. A bad joke,” Claude leans in a little. “I believe you. I’m sorry for doubting you. But, if you really want me to stay then—”

“You just surprised me, is all,” Linhardt said, finally glancing away. “I just wasn’t expecting it. Someone approached, and I didn’t know who it was. It could have been a stranger, and I reacted to that.”

Claude carefully considers Linhardt’s words. “So, it would have been okay if you just knew it was me?”

Linhardt rolls their eyes affectionately. “Of course, Claude,” Linhardt says. “Do you not remember how I acted with you when we first met?”

Claude lets out a slightly flustered huff. “I mean, for all I know, you could have been pissed at me because I haven’t been able to see you the last couple of days.”

Linhardt’s brows furrow and their lips turn down into a pout. “Now why would I be upset about that? You went out of your way to tell me you might be busy on that first night, _and_ you apologised to me yesterday. I knew what to expect. And well, I was expecting you…not to be here so, that was why I was shocked.”

Claude nods and continues to consider Linhardt carefully. He glances down at Linhardt’s hands since gone idle as they spoke. “Hey…can I, hold your hand, right now?”

Linhardt lets out a soft laugh and reaches out one hand towards Claude. “You need not ask permission for every little thing but…I can see that this is your way of accommodating me.”

Claude smiles, takes Linhardt’s hand and then presses their elegant fingers to his lips. “That is wonderful to hear. I do not know what I would do with myself if the illustrious Linhardt came all this way to Almyra, and then my insolence caused me to fall out of their favour.”

“Trust me, Claude. You will have to do far worse to risk tarnishing my opinion of you.”

“Oh?” Claude grins, letting Linhardt’s fingers fall from his lips. “You have that high opinion of me?”

Linhardt rolls their eyes again. “Of course I do. Or do you need me to reiterate it again for you in writing?” Linhardt then leans forward and gently kisses Claude on the corner of the mouth. “Or must I continue to demonstrate what I mean with my actions?”

Claude’s cheeks heat up, even as he tries to keep his suave composure. “It depends. I would never dare to limit your means of expression.”

Linhardt pulls away, their cheeks flushed as they let go of Claude’s hand and return to their organising. “Good, because I do not intend to.” Linhardt releases Claude’s hand and pulls away, going back to finish putting their workspace in order. Claude watches Linhardt, oddly content to watch their nimble hands work for a few long moments.

Linhardt had laid out the pilfered poetry reader, a stack of notes, an almyran dictionary, and the anthology that Claude had found for them. “Ah, I almost forgot,” Linhardt then reached into their bag and pulled out one more book. This one, obviously very different from the others.

This managed to drag Claude out of his daze. “Is that...” Claude trailed off before reaching out a tentative hand to touch it. “That’s Emperor Brünhild’s copy. You managed to bring it?”

Linhardt nodded, still smiling. “You were right, it wasn’t easy, but I managed to sneak it out of the capital. If Edelgard has stern words for me, I’ll just deal with that when I’m back in Enbarr.” Linhardt shrugged.

“Well, I’ll consider it my personal mission to help you be able to read that tome for yourself, that way you’ll have something to show for risking the ire of your dear Emperor.”

“I will hold you to that,” Linhardt replied. He then carefully placed the tome to the side, on Claude’s side of the table and returned to their own notes. “Anyway…” Linhardt begins. “I’ve already read all the poems in this reader, so, I’d like for you to help me learn a new one,”

“Of course,” Claude says paging the collected works open to a particular poem.

Claude moves closer so that their shoulders touch and so they can easily read the same page. “I can just read the line and you repeat after me, okay? Let's work on your pronunciation today for starters.”

Linhardt nods, pulling up their notes and preparing to listen.

“first, read the title for me?”

Linhardt furrows their brows. “sheezhm'ahzh oon vahil…?” Claude can’t help but smile at their earnest attempt.

“Yes, that is how it is written. Unfortunately, Almyran isn’t quite that phonetic,” Claude points to his lips to draw Linhardt’s careful attention. “It’s more like…shijim’azh un bahil,”

Linhardt repeats the phrase carefully, doing their very best to match the tone and inflections.

“I see now, that must be why the Embassy staff seems so bewildered when I try to speak with them,” Linhardt scribbles down some notes.

“Well, I for one think you sound very cute,” Claude says, resting a cheek on an open palm. “You are very skilled with your tongue, to be able to imitate my inflections like that,” Claude said with a grin.

“I’ve repeated one phrase for you, save the praise for when I do something actually impressive,” Linhardt replies with a raised eyebrow.

Claude chuckles. “You want me to be more judicious with my praise, make you work for it?”

“No, simply grant it when it’s earned,”

“You got it, no superfluous praise,” a smile still lingered on Claude’s lips, watching Linhardt like they were the most fascinating thing in the whole room. Linhardt seemed to notice this intense gaze and glanced away, back at the poetry before them.

While it is only two stanzas, it is difficult for Linhardt to parse at first, but Claude’s serenity and patience help ease that frustration, if only a little bit. “Okay, let me read it for you one more time, keep writing down any words you know.” Claude continued his voice sounding somehow even softer and warmer when speaking his native tongue. 

_It is I who stands, on the shores of Inkar_

_facing the torrent of whale-bone lances,_

_by the god-fleet swept away_

_waves of sea-glass underfoot_

_It is not victory that is lost to the waves,_

_as the sea-kings armies once rejoiced_

_so too does my heart sing,_

_songs of my defeat by the surging sea_

_I am no warrior, I do rail against this foe_

_instead, I yield, my crown to the waves_

“You got all that?” No, quite frankly, Linhardt did not. Claude’s passion and warmth were a bit distracting, to be honest. Linhardt began to wonder why Claude would have picked this particular one.

“Alright, repeat after me,” Claude began to recite the poem again. Line by line, syllable by syllable. Linhardt managed to remain focused for approximately two lines until they got the bright idea to watch Claude’s lips to try and match the mouth shapes on the sounds that were difficult for him.

“You okay?” Claude asked after Linhardt had zoned out for a good 15 seconds. 

“Mm. Yes,” Linhardt said, flicking their eyes up to meet Claude’s. “I’ll be honest, it’s a bit difficult to retain the phrases when I have no idea what they mean.”

“Got it,” Claude says, taking a few moments to write down a translation before passing it to Linhardt.

Even translated into their own language, Linhardt furrows their brow in confusion. 

Claude watches Linhardt copy down the poem into their notes, going over his own brilliant translation while his eyes lingered on the studious mage. _“It is I who stands, on the shores of Inkar/a torrent of whale-bone lances,”_ Claude mutters to himself his gaze lingering on Linhardt for a moment longer.

Linhardt keeps writing, pausing only for a moment to push a lock of hair behind their ear.

_“it is not victory that is lost to the waves,”_ Claude continues, one hand almost daring to reach out and touch Linhardt, but he refrains. 

Linhardt stops and glances over towards Claude, eyes yet endless like the sea, and Claude is speechless for a few more moments. Linhardt continues to look at Claude expectantly until Claude snaps back to his senses. “Oh, this first line probably doesn’t make much sense, huh? It references a mythical battle that was said to have been won with help from a fleet from the sea god—” Claude cuts himself off. “Ah, don’t want to get carried away there. The whole myth isn’t totally relevant, but—”

Linhardt shakes their head. “No, tell me. I want to know,”

Claude’s grin widened at that. “Ah, of course. Ever hungry for more knowledge, aren’t we, Linhardt?”

Linhardt gives a coy shrug, tapping their quill pen on the parchment. “It’s important that I understand this context. Plus, you are cute when you become enthusiastic like that,” Linhardt says this matter-of-factly without looking at Claude. If Linhardt had chosen to glance at Claude at that moment, they would have seen Claude’s face burst into a brilliant blush.

Linhardt nods. “Tell me, Claude. Is this, a love poem?”

Claude gives an impressed huff. “Now, first, I want to know what makes you think that?”

“Sure the imagery used is of a battle, but the author doesn’t seem to upset about it. It appears do be about…losing oneself,” Linhardt frowns.

“I’m impressed, Linhardt.”

Linhardt frowns. “I told you that I’ve read poetry before right? Plenty of it. This much should be a given.”

“Well, for all you said about you not being that good at social matters, you actually are pretty well-versed in it.”

“Only from books,” Linhardt replies. “I am not nearly as successful in practice.”

“I dare say you were pretty damn successful during our dinner the other night.”

“Was I?” Linhardt raises an eyebrow. “You were all too eager to assume that I was ready to toss you aside just earlier today.”

Claude chuckles. “Well, at least now that little misunderstanding is cleared up.”

“Yes, I would hate to waste any more time.”

Claude ponders that response for a moment. “Speaking of time, what do you say we take a little break?”

Linhardt frowns. “We’ve barely even gotten through one poem,” Linhardt replies.

“I bet you’ve been here all morning…”

“…since last night, actually.”

Claude would chide them, but Claude, in particular, had no room to speak on that particular point. “We can get back to more work later, I promise.”

Linhardt glances in Claude’s direction, their face still rather impassive. “Fine. Just where do you plan to take me?”

Claude’s instinct is to keep it a surprise, but given their previous reaction, he reconsiders. “The gardens.”

* * *

Claude, was now shifting gears. While his impulses drive him to take advantage of every opportunity that presents itself, Claude now hangs back as a patient observer. He leads Linhardt by the arm out of the Archives, through the embassy’s halls to the adjoining gardens. The surrounding area is not very conventional by Fódlani standards, but this does not appear to phase Linhardt. 

Claude bitterly remembers a young Morphisian official who had deigned to visit Almyra several moons ago. Claude has accompanied them to this very garden, which was followed not by a barrage of questions; but of comments. Remarks on the differences, on the strangeness; of how this wasn’t like back home. A Morphisian architect surely would never choose such a thing. 

Claude is loathe to cast judgement on an entire island nation based on one rather bullheaded Noble, but it certainly had left a bad taste in the prince’s mouth. Especially, when the true goals of this Morphisian’s insistence in being at Claude’s side had become abundantly clear. 

“This plant,” Linhardt’s voice suddenly draws Claude back into the present. “It appears similar to a medicinal herb I am familiar with, but not quite. Do you happen to know it’s common name?”

Linhardt was crouched down by a bed of plants, fingers carefully examining a long tapered leaf. 

“Yeah that’s called Angelsbane. I’m not a herbologist but—“ Linhardt’s face then creased into one of deep concentration. “Linhardt I am going to ask that you do not harvest the plants from the Embassy garden.” Linhardt looks disappointed and pulls their hand away. “Perhaps I can take a trip to the market to test it for myself,” Linhardt stood up, adjusting their satchel and walking over to Claude’s side. 

“Uh, test what, exactly, might I ask?”

Linhardt gives Claude a blank look as if the answer should be obvious. “I want to see if it is indeed related or similar to the plant variety I know of. It should be easy to determine.”

Claude gives a wry smile. “Of course, of course. I’d be more than happy to accompany you to the market in search of as many herbs as you need.” No need to let Linhardt know quite yet how knowledgeable Claude really is about herbs. However, Claude’s knowledge largely covers those which are useful ingredients for poisons. 

A gentle smile forms on Linhardt’s lips and Claude finds his spirits lifting. Whatever unpleasant memories had occurred earlier, now drifting away. “If you’re that interested in the plants, I can’t show you the way to the arboretum.”

Linhardt shrugs. “I am not interested in plants in particular. At least, not at the moment. This one just caught my eye because it was familiar.”

“Can’t blame you for that,” Claude smiles, noticing while looking up at Linhardt that they had managed to get some dirt on their face. “Ah you got a spot there,” Claude then digs into his pocket and fishes out a handkerchief, wiping off the dust with a swift motion.

Linhardt nods in thanks. “I imagine your schedule will continue to not allow you to easily make a concrete plan for this hypothetical market trip.”

“That’s right,” Claude put the handkerchief back in his pocket and offered his arm to Linhardt once again. Linhardt accepted and they fell into step together, walking deeper into the gardens. 

Eventually, the two found their way to a secluded stone bench, surrounded by pleasant greenery all around. However, once they were seated, Claude noticed that Linhardt was no longer looking around, but instead staring blankly into the middle-distance with their arm hung limply from Claude’s.

“Hey,” Claude said gently to try and get Linhardt’s attention. “Are you okay?”

“Hm? Why do you ask.”

“You said you’d been in there working since last night.”

Linhardt gives an indifferent shrug. “I like being free to do what I wish. But, sometimes things are too interesting and—” Linhardt’s words are interrupted by a yawn. “I just...forget to sleep. I’ll end up getting sleep somehow, eventually.”

“Ah,” Claude nods, placing a hand to his chin in acceptance of this new deep understanding. “If you find yourself getting sleepy, please do not hesitate. I will even gladly offer my services as a pillow,” Claude grins.

“I might just take you up on that,” Linhardt replies with another short yawn. “But really, I am not at all that sleepy quite yet.”

“What a shame, I dare say that helping you drift off to the kingdom of dreams would be a great honour,” Claude says, one hand idly playing with Linhardt’s hair. 

Linhardt smiles. “If instead, you yourself are wanting a nap, I could oblige you.”

Claude chuckles warmly, his hand pausing in Linhardt’s hair. “Now that is an enticing offer.”

The two fell silent for a moment, gazing into the others’ eyes before Linhardt breaks the eye contact first. “I do also want to get back to studying but,” Linhardt shrugs. “I fear I may become a bit too distracted,” Linhardt’s eyes glance to Claude’s lips.

“What a shame. I would hate to impede your studies.”

“But wouldn’t you?” Linhardt leans in a bit, rubbing their cheek against Claude’s hand. Claude responds by carefully unfurling his hand against that soft cheek. “You insisted that we study a love poem together. I wonder if you did that on purpose?”

“Oh? What could I possibly gain from flustering you intentionally like that?”

“I can think of a few things,” Linhardt said while quirking an eyebrow. “You aren’t going to be forthright with me, so I will just have to guess.” Linhardt lifts their own hand to cup one of Claude’s cheeks. “You already know how I feel about you—”

“Do I?” Claude asks without thinking, seeming to internally curse himself for it. Linhardt pauses.

“Of course. I have told you…at least twice in so many words. I am interested in you, romantically.”

“Hoo—Okay. Wow. You sure don’t mince words.”

Linhardt frowns. “Clearly I need to be direct, as you were so obstinate as to not understand earlier.” Linhardt lets out a frustrated huff. “Look. I am not good at guessing what people are thinking or feeling. But, I have a hunch now. Do you have feelings for me in return?”

Claude bites his lip, glancing down for a moment. “Linhardt…” he begins, rubbing his thumb against Linhardt’s cheek. “I think you are pretty fantastic. You are brilliant, but you aren’t cold. You’re unflinchingly motivated and don’t even really seem like deception is something you consider. It’s refreshing, dare I say, even endearing. But, as I mentioned, being able to read people has been a matter of life or death. And as fascinating as I find you; I have to say, not being able to read you, is also kind of terrifying.”

Linhardt gazes back into Claude’s eyes, and at that moment that gaze felt somewhat disarming, almost invasive. But nonetheless, Claude didn’t look away. 

“You suspect that I may still have some ulterior motive.”

“Well, not exactly. I don’t think that you in specific have a goal—at least if you did. I don’t really know what it is. It is just—it’s something I can’t quite shake, is what I’m trying to say. And, I hope, at least. That you won’t take it personally.”

“Why would I? Especially now since, you are choosing to actually be honest with me. I appreciate it, you letting down your guard for me. I may be unskilled with socializing, but I have knows others like you. I know how significant it can be, sometimes, simply to open up to another.”

Claude lets out a gentle laugh, pulling their faces closer so that their foreheads touched. “You can say that again.”

Linhardt lets out a contented sigh. “Claude, you had us read a love poem together.”

“I did.”

“If you didn’t mean to taunt me then—”

Before Linhardt could finish, Claude tilted his chin upwards to place a peck on Linhardt’s lips. Gentle, brief, asking for permission. Linhardt sighs again but does return the kiss. “Actions, always actions rather than words with you,” Linhardt mutters while tangling one hand in Claude’s hair.

Claude smiles against Lin’s lips and drapes one arm around their waist, letting himself be lost for a moment in the thrill of it. A rushing current, endless waves. Depths that resist understanding and now will plunge right in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know the ending metaphor is a bit cheesy, but! i had to stick the landing somehow. I never think i'm very good at ending chapters, and i didn't want to just cut it off like last time? Well. we will see. Thanks for reading again!


	6. We, In Ceremony

Claude awakes with a start to the sound of a sharp knock on his office door. He hastily wipes his mouth and pushes himself up from his desk, walking swiftly to the door. Just another internal courier, more papers to sign, that was all fine and good. Before the courier can leave however Claude quickly asks if that day’s mail has arrived yet. 

It has, was the curt reply, before the courier hurried along on their way. 

Claude paces back into his office, running both hands through his by now rather dishevelled hair. Linhardt has been here at least a week now, Claude knows the mage’s routines, and they do not appear to be one who breaks patterns once established, and yet…

On Claude’s desk among the letters and documents is a brief report from the translator assigned to work with Linhardt, her work is going well, although no mention of Linhardt’s progress was included. Not surprising, Linhardt isn’t actually an employee of the Almyran government, they are simply a guest. 

Claude could, of course, just go and see Linhardt just about whenever he pleased, and yet, more often than not, he usually found himself fretting or throwing himself back into work. He wouldn’t be able to tell anyone why, but anyone who knew him well would be able to tell immediately. 

And that is where he is for the moment, fretting. He wonders if he would be interrupting Linhardt, or even perhaps they are asleep due to their rather erratic sleep schedule. But as these thoughts swirl through his head, Claude finds himself fixing his hair and clothes in the mirror.

_Gods, what on earth are you doing?_

Claude knows what Hilda would tell him to do, just go. Just go and See Linhardt instead of wallowing alone like this. Perhaps Claude will seek them out, perhaps not. For now, he heads after the promised mail with a dim hope bubbling in his chest.

Swinging by the room on the far end of the dignitaries’ offices, Claude spies the stack laid out for himself. And to his delight, he sees the familiar flowing script and tasteful parchment that means Hilda’s reply has finally arrived. He grabs it eagerly and puts it in his jacket before hazarding a glance around the pile. He was glad to have done so, because his eyes fall on another pertinent letter.

It was addressed to Linhardt, from the Emperor herself!

Claude carefully takes the letter along with other missives addressed to both of them and briskly leaves to trot back down the hallway. As he walks, he pulls out Hilda’s letter, tearing it open without hesitation.

* * *

_Dear Claude_

_Of course, I am going to write you back! I may not have as much free time now, but I obviously have time for you. It’s good to hear that Linhardt made it all in one piece, but how can you mention another letter without telling me the details? You just gonna make me more curious and assume it’s something too scandalous to repeat on paper! But honestly, you sound somehow more smitten than before. That thing with the magic lights at dinner sounds dreadfully romantic._

_Moving on to, other topics: Thankfully, I’ve finally made contact with Marianne again, which is a huge relief. The poor girl was all apologies about not replying to my letters, but goddess, am I glad that she is well and safe._

_She has been doing well, she’s been up to, more or less what I will be doing from here on out. Training, studying, learning; doing everything we can to be useful in this new changing future._

_You know how Lorenz was running himself ragged trying to not only govern all of Leicester, but also be the representative in Enbarr? Well he’s finally been convinced to just focus on the already ridiculously hard task of governing all of Leicester. Marianne told me this, because, apparently she intends to apply to be his replacement!_

_I have no doubt she will get the job, of course. She’s fantastic and perfect in every way. And at least, she seems to be starting to think that about herself, even if only a little bit at a time._

_I made sure to relay your sentiments to Marianne, and she seemed touched. I mentioned other things, including that Linhardt was now visiting you and she seemed…intrigued? I am honestly not quite sure how to describe her reaction. I heard that she and Linhardt were close during the war, but it seems like something happened and they haven’t spoken. Marianne seems to think that Linhardt wants nothing to do with her now. But that’s wrong, right? You told me Linhardt mentioned her in his early letters to you!_

_Well, if she intends to take the job in Enbarr, I imagine she and Linhardt will be seeing a whole lot more of each other, so it can’t have been something so bad as to want to avoid him entirely, right?_

_I know in my head it’s probably fine, probably some big misunderstanding, knowing poor Marianne. But well, it’s hard to resist speculating, you know? And if it is just that, I’d like to help them work it out if I can. If you figure anything else out from Linhardt, I trust you. You really seem to like them so I am hoping it’s not anything bad at least…_

_Otherwise, the rest of my days is all the boring stuff that you would probably find fascinating. But even you have to get sick of talking about meetings and paperwork, right? I know I do. I’d much rather just complain face to face when I see you again anyway, which will be way sooner than we think._

_With love, Hilda <3_

* * *

Claude had been walking automatically down the now-familiar embassy hallways while reading, and when he finished, he finally actually looked up to see where he was. Claude had not ended up anywhere near his office or his chambers, and so took a moment there to stand and think. 

Hilda was right, Linhardt had mentioned Marianne in their second letter to Claude, but had not so much as brought her up again. Claude had even less information than Hilda had, but now, he had at his disposal Linhardt themself. Marianne…Claude had been fond of her and even found himself worrying about her more often than not, so this was going to stick in his mind, not to mention that concern for Linhardt that had grown along with their closeness.

Thinking about it a bit longer, Claude called to mind Linhardt’s letter from the 11th of guardian moon; when Linhardt had pulled back after noticing how closed off Claude still was. Claude had suggested, jokingly at first, that Linhardt’s ‘academic interest’ was closely tied with their personal and romantic interest. And it appeared that Claude had been correct.

The possibility niggled in the back of Claude’s mind, that a similar mingling of academic and genuine interest had drawn Linhardt to Marianne, and perhaps Linhardt’s instinct to pull back came from whatever happened to drive them apart.

Well, for now, Claude decides to go ahead and deliver this letter and see about asking Linhardt for himself. After some searching, Claude finds Linhardt on the Veranda where they had shared their first dinner together. There Linhardt stands, staring out at the gardens and the distant city illuminated by the light of day this time.

“Hey, Linhardt—” Claude calls before approaching. 

Linhardt turns around and their expression softens. “Claude? To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Claude grins. “Do I need an excuse to seek out your lovely company?” He says while pulling a letter from his jacket. “Well, I don’t but, I happen to have one today.” Claude stops next to Linhardt by the railing and hands them the sealed letter. “It’s from your beloved Emperor Edelgard~,” Claude says.

Linhardt takes the letter, looking it over for a long moment with an expression that Claude found to be curious. 

Claude then grins pulling out his already opened letter from Hilda. “I actually got a letter from Hilda myself, so we both got letters from our sweethearts back home,” Claude says jokingly, but Linhardt’s expression remains somewhat serious. “That’s why I figured I’d just grab yours and deliver it by hand.”

“I thank you,” Linhardt looks down at the letter in their hands and begins to open it. 

“Ah, you don’t have to read it now—”

Lin then glances back at Claude. “If you do not wish to invade my privacy you can just avert your eyes,” Linhardt replies dryly.

“Well, actually—”

“Or did you have something you wished to speak to me about?”

“I just want to talk to you a bit is all. I’ve scarcely seen you at all these last few days.”

Linhardt then stores the letter in their coat and turns back to staring out over the gardens.

“I wanted to ask you, how things are going with your work?”

“Fine, as good as can be expected. I’m not going to become fluent in Almyran in a week,”

“But you’re still working hard,”

Linhardt shrugs. “I would hope so.”

Linhardt is silent again for a moment. Every time they fall silent, or Linhardt glances away, Claude suspects that Linhardt might be mad or something. But Claude has started to see how Linhardt themself works, and so he knows not to jump to conclusions. It’s hard to resist the impulse to keep the conversation going, or try to do something else to fill the dead air. Especially since, well, Linhardt was someone who could enjoy comfortable silence.

Claude, however, does take one minor risk and sticks out a hand to rest on Linhardt’s shoulder. “Hey. I promised to take you into town sometime, I haven’t forgotten that.”

“For that herb? That’s fine you don’t need to worry about something like that.”

“You seemed pretty excited about it, so I wanted to help.”

“Yes, but you are quite busy. As I am to be honest, it’s not something you need to waste your time with,” Linhardt then turns and looks at Claude, stepping a bit closer. “If you are to make time to spend it with me, I would rather you focus on the things that actually matter to me.”

“Oh?” Claude raises an eyebrow, following Linhardt’s lead and turning to face Linhardt, placing his other hand on Lin’s waist almost as if they were about to do one of those stuffy Fodlani noble dances.

“My interest in most things tends to waver, so it’s best to focus on what truly captures my interest,” Linhardt says while still not fully focusing on the man before him.

Claude’s brow creases and he reaches up to brush a stray lock of hair out of Linhardt’s face. “If you want to read that letter, I won’t get in your way. It’s one of the first you’ve gotten since arriving, right?

“It is the first, actually,” Linhardt replies, their lips tightening slightly. 

“Really, you haven’t gotten any from...Lysithea? Or even Caspar?”

Linhardt snorts. “Caspar...finding the time to sit down and write a letter. Now that is truly hilarious.”

“Really?” Claude asks, seeing the rather bitter expression on Linhardt’s face. “You don’t seem to find it all that funny.”

Linhardt glances away.

Claude presses his lips together. “Well, I might as well get to the thing I did want to tell you. I asked Hilda about Marianne—” Linhardt’s shoulders visibly stiffen, causing Claude to pause momentarily. “It looks like Hilda finally got a hold of her. And Marianne is doing well.”

“I am glad to hear that,” Linhardt replies. While Hilda hadn’t been able to fully describe that conflicted expression Marianne had worn; Claude was willing to bet it looked something like this. Relief tinged with melancholy; as though being happy about something that is eternally beyond your reach.

“Look, Linhardt. I don’t know what happened between you two—”

“Nothing happened,” Linhardt snapped, firm enough to cause Claude to start and pull his hands away. “Well, that is to say, there was nothing between us. I simply deluded myself.”

Claude frowns. “Now what do you mean by that?”

Linhardt’s lips snap shut and they withdraw, seeming to all but recoil from Claude’s relatively gentle probing. “The fact of the matter is this: Marianne clearly never wishes to see me again, and so there is no use—” Linhardt’s lower lip begins to tremble and they lean heavily against the railing for support. 

What on earth could have happened between them? Something where they both felt as though they were to blame; where Marianne couldn’t even tell Hilda about it? If only Claude had just had more time, more time to understand Marianne, to really get what made her melancholy so unbearable a weight that it threatened to crush her. If only Claude had been able to learn really, anything significant about Linhardt before now. 

But…that was then, and this is now.

“Hey,” Claude says, leaning in and trying to meet Linhardt’s gaze. “Come with me, okay?” Claude says, placing a hand on his back. “You seem like you just need some time to relax. And I think I have the perfect solution.”

Linhardt gives Claude a rather vacant look but nods all the same, turning and taking a hold of Claude’s arm, clinging rather than being led like a suitor would be.

Claude leads Linhardt back inside, away from the dry arid outdoors and somewhere Linhardt was surely going to be far more comfortable. Eventually, they make their way to a square room with a high windowed ceiling. The floor was marble like the rest of the building but with far more plush carpeting than in most rooms, strewn with silken brocaded pillows around an assortment of low tables.

“At night this place is fantastic,” Claude says with a glance towards the skylight. And with a look back at Lin, Claude is incredibly relieved to see their face already showing a bit of glee.

Claude takes a gentle hold of Linhardt’s hand and leads the way to a particularly cozy-looking corner. Claude lets go of their hand only to prop up and fix the pillows and spread out one of the woven blankets. He then turns around, gesturing to his handiwork with a grin. “After you, my _liege._ ”

“Again with that,” Linhardt says with light exasperation, but no less obliging and reclining against the pillows prepared by Claude.

Claude then pulls close and loops an arm around Linhardt’s shoulders, Linhardt gets comfortable leaning against Claude’s shoulder. “What is that nickname not to your liking?” Claude asks with a grin.

“No, I don’t mind it. It’s just a bit odd, considering,” Linhardt mutters with a small grin. It was nice, after the busy week they both had. Just being able to be here in Claude’s arms was enough. Perhaps enough to forget all about Marianne, and about Claude’s yet closed-off heart. “Maybe that makes it better.”

“I may be a prince, but you are the one that rules over magic, crestology and the world of dreams.” Claude replies.

“Is that so?” Lin’s lips finally start to quirk into a small smile. “If I’m your liege then that means you must follow my orders,” Lin says, looking up at Claude through their long eyelashes. 

Seeing Linhardt liven up again filled Claude with an oddly pleasant feeling. “In that case, what can I do to appease you, my liege?”

Linhardt stares back at Claude for a moment before cuddling back up again. “You offered your services as a pillow before, now, make good on that pledge,”

Claude chuckles and leans back further into the cushions, letting Lin do what they wanted to get comfortable. Linhardt does just that, leaning their face against Claude’s chest and stretching out along his body like a restless cat. It felt almost unreal that they could be so casual and comfortable with one another. If Claude took more than a moment to question it, he would drive himself crazy, so he elected to ignore those incessant pangs of anxiety. Claude had been right about one thing, Linhardt definitely needed this. Whatever….” this” was, a question Claude was beyond unwilling to try and answer. 

Linhardt gets comfortable, and then pulls out the letter from Edelgard, holding it at a rather secretive angle. Claude was curious, but was able to resist the temptation, instead, distracting himself by threading his fingers through Linhardt’s silky hair.

Linhardt lets out a soft pleased noise, pressing their face further into Claude’s chest. Claude felt a sudden rush of heat at that eager and adorable response, but now was in a position where he would have to just deal with that.

Linhardt’s gaze focused on the letter.

* * *

_Dear Linhardt,_

_I trust that things are going well on your end. I am not writing to hear your report, however, I am writing you with much more personal intentions. I received the letter you sent, intended for Caspar, and was able to relay it to him, since, as it happens, Caspar actually has made a stop in the capital this week. I was able to take some time to catch up with him, and so I will take the time to relay Caspar’s sentiments to you._

_He is very happy, and excited about your trip to Almyra, longs to hear all about it and see it for himself someday. His plans for the next few months are in flux, but I told him about the plan for your eventual return trip so that he has the possibility of meeting you. I will do what I can to arrange that but, even my power and influence has it’s limits._

_Dorothea, is begging to hear from you. If you cannot find the time to write her a letter for yourself, perhaps at least promise to meet with her and tell her all about your rendezvous with Claude when you return? I am certain that will please her greatly. She seems already convinced that you will return all but the prince’s new consort. For your sake, I hope that is not too far from the truth._

_To be frank, I do still hold some worries. It is hard not to assume, as Claude is likely not above using people for his own gain, but I feel like he at least is above toying with people’s feelings, but it is not outside of the realm of possibility. However, this is no offence meant to you, I am not exactly sure what he could hope to gain from seducing you, apart from access to our records and research, but we are already planning to share that freely._

_I do not mean to pry, I am sure that you have your reasons for not sharing details, but everyone is curious. It is unlike you to be so private with us, your friends, so of course we became curious. However, please, take your time. But in this case, I have reason to believe that whatever he displays towards you is genuine. If you yourself hold doubts, I hope that you feel that you can seek counsel from your friends. Dorothea, in particular, would be more than happy to offer that._

_Regards,_

_Edelgard_

* * *

By the time Linhardt had finished reading, Claude was already thoroughly dozing, the omnipresent sleep deprivation bound to catch up with him eventually. And so, he likely didn’t hear the occasional grunts and sighs that Linhardt made while reading. 

Linhardt folds up the letter and stores it back in their coat, turning back to Claude and slinging both arms around him to sprawl on his chest.

Claude lets out a laugh, placing a hand to Linhardt’s back as the two of them slide further into the pillows. “Hey there, I take it you’re done reading?” Claude says, his eyes opening slowly, gazing down at the top of Lin’s head with unbridled affection.

Perhaps it was something about how Lin moved and acted with such honesty and such little restraint. Despite Claude’s anxiety at Linhardt’s inscrutability, the parts that Claude is privy too are clear as day. There’s no hesitation, no second-guessing, at least that is how it appears. 

But of course in the back of his mind, Claude ponders how this all fits in with whatever happened with Marianne. The possibilities spiral endlessly and to so many ridiculous extremes, but he can’t help but wonder if there is a connection.

“So? What was the news from her Imperial Majesty?”

“She made sure to tell me that my letter to Caspar made it to him, and she also relayed his sentiments in kind.”

“Well, that’s good then, even if Caspar doesn’t write letters to you personally.”

“Yeah,” Linhardt’s gaze is distant. 

Claude observes that expression while stroking Linhardt’s hair again. “If you can allow me to pry just a little…Does this have anything to do with why you were crying before?” Claude gulps. “Why you were crying on your first night here. Because you miss Caspar?”

Linhardt sighs. “That’s part of it,” Lin then shifts and moves up along Claude’s body, now in a position to stare down at him. “You don’t need to feel embarrassed about hearing my that night. It’s not like you overheard me in the middle of a moment of passion or something,”

Claude blinks. “Well then, you have a point there,” he laughs. “I wonder then…what would you have done if that had in fact been the case?”

Linhardt smirks, pushing down on Claude’s shoulder so that he was laying down across the floor with Linhardt suspended above him. “Depending on my mood, I might just invite you in to join me.”

Claude doesn’t laugh or even fluster, instead, he just looks up at Linhardt, transfixed once again. Claude’s lack of reaction, however, came across to Linhardt differently. Linhardt pulls back and returns to sitting amongst the cushions, staring blankly into the middle distance. 

After a few moments, Claude finally regains his senses and jerks himself back up into a sitting position. “Wait—Why did you—why did you stop?”

Linhardt glances back at him blankly. “If you wanted me to continue, I suggest not just lying there slack-jawed,” Lin says, their tone a little sour. 

“Oh, okay yeah, that’s totally on me,” Claude says while scooting back over to sit by Linhardt. “You still seem a bit out of sorts today, so, just know I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”

“Why?” Linhardt asks genuinely. “You shouldn’t feel the need to bother with me, especially since I’m sure you have work that you are avoiding.”

“Hey—Harsh!” Claude says, feigning offence. But seeing Linhardt’s lack of amusement, Claude swiftly moves on. “What kind of host would I be if I let my honoured guest languish alone in misery?” he says with a grin. “But, to be more honest,” Claude then reaches out to take a hold of one of Linhardt’s hands. “You are, more than just a guest to me,” Claude says before placing his lips to Linhardt’s knuckles once again.

Linhardt’s lips press into a small pout as their cheeks warmed. “That’s right, I’m not your guest, I’m your _Liege_ , aren’t I?”

Claude laughs, letting Linhardt’s hand fall down between them. “Yeah, you are. I am dedicated to your service,”

Linhardt’s eyes dart away briefly, now that Claude can see the lovely blush that decorates those cheeks. “Well, for now, I accept your offer to stay with me this afternoon.”

“Really? Then it would be my honour.”

Linhardt’s lips curve into the smallest smile, and Claude feels his own spirits lift in kind. How mysterious they were, how fleeting and yet overpowering were these feelings. And as for now, Claude would do all that he could to keep this precious person smiling, if he could, for as long as they were in reach. But all the while, his other plans are spinning, the mysteries, and the unanswered questions. Doubts and truths that could not be hoped to be drowned in a simple kiss. Instead, Claude would follow those threads wherever they might lead.


	7. Ashes to the Sea

When Claude awakens the next morning, early-afternoon sunlight filters in at an unfamiliar angle. A scent, not of his own bed, but not unfamiliar envelops him. In his half-waking state, there is a shock of panic once he dimly realises that he is not in his own room, which soon fades once he deduces _where_ he is precisely. 

_This is Linhardt’s room_ …

Fully waking up, Claude sees that he is in fact, alone. And, somewhat disappointingly, he is fully clothed. It must have been that the exhaustion had finally gotten the best of him,and Linhardt had…brought Claude to their room? But taking fuller stock of his overall…state, Claude discovers a few reddening kiss marks on his neck and chest. It was difficult to suss out what had been a dream or fantasy, but regardless, it had been wonderful, and all Claude wants is to drown in that kiss…

However, Claude finds that Linhardt is not even here. Jerking upright, Claude looks around the room and then gets to his feet, stumbling around to collect the rest of his clothes that had been removed. He does not see anything of Linhardt’s recently discarded, so they did not simply step out for a moment. 

Claude’s senses start to fully return to him more and more, and the memories of Linhardt’s touch start to solidify in his mind. Claude wants to find Linhardt again, for more reasons than just Lin’s kisses and caresses. But for the moment, Claude is unable to keep dwelling, as he notices something on Linhardt’s desk.

Walking over, Claude spots a letter left out, quite purposefully so. And as it happened, it was addressed to himself. Claude sits down, a slow sense of dread creeping up his spine, but he reads nonetheless. 

_To Claude_

_As now you appear to be more aware that I parted with Marianne on less than stellar terms, I feel that now I should give you my account of the events to the best of my ability. At least through a letter, I can appear composed. If the shame and disgust at myself overwhelms me, you need not be subjected to it._

_As you know, Marianne chose to fight with us during the war. A world where people are not ruled by their crests no doubt appealed to poor Marianne. I am still surprised, and even further still that she chose to associate with me rather closely after the war got on._

_She and I worked together quite closely as healers and often spent sleepless nights working in the medical tents together along with Manuela. I will always be grateful for their help during those times._

_One night, deep into the campaign, it must have been after Derdriu...Marianne seemed in better spirits, as many of her friends managed to survive that conflict. However, the war did not suddenly become kinder._

_It was just the two of us, I awoke to see her there with me in a small tent. I must have passed out from overwork and she then cared for me. It was really quite clichéd, as she did appear almost as an angel to me at that moment. I must have been delirious or otherwise not in my right mind, because after she helped me to a sitting position to help me drink some water...I kissed her._

_She must have chosen to forget about it, because after that night she continued to act normally around me, as far as I could tell. By then I had already attempted to convey my feelings to her in words, but they did not reach, and perhaps I had become frustrated._

_Gracefully, the war ended naught a few moons later. It was at the victory celebration, back at Garreg Mach that I asked her to meet me at the Goddess Tower. In retrospect, I know now what she must have anticipated from me, but at the time I was naïve. Marianne hadn’t changed her behaviour around me, and so clearly she didn’t feel any differently about me, right?_

_I wanted to give her a ring. Yes, I know how foolish this must appear now. It was not meant to be a proposal of marriage, but an expression of my feelings. In all honesty, I expected her to just go back to Leicester without me, and so I wanted some memory of me to go with her._

_But, of course, I instead made such a grave mistake. Marianne must have panicked because I hardly got any words out before she left, backing away and leaving me there in the tower, it was, however, exactly what I deserved._

_I am not sure exactly what got into me, thinking that Marianne had any feelings for me besides polite friendliness. And so, truthfully, there is no one to blame but myself. There is only so much of my complete ignorance and lack of tact that any one person can tolerate, and in a way, it seems almost as if I have a limited amount of goodwill with any given person. Perhaps due to Marianne’s own suffering, especially suffering at the hands of crest scholars such as myself that caused my time with her to run particularly short._

_I do not resent her, but only hope that I can avoid impacting her life in a negative way from here on out. Perhaps without me, her life can remain untouched by the sorrows that plagued her so long. And with that, I hope that others do not feel the need to interfere. I would not have others trying to force us together against her wishes. I am happy if she is happy._

_Likewise, it is my wish to avoid foisting my own desires and wishes upon you as well. And while I do not want to waste my inevitably limited goodwill with you, I have found myself unable to fully resist. Instead, I have been impulsive, as if rushing to experience my every whim before impending doom falls upon us. Perhaps the ever-present fear of death from the war will never truly leave me._

_I wanted you to know, everything as I remember it. I know how much incomplete information and mysteries can infuriate me, and so I have no wish to keep you in the dark when I can do something about it._

_Linhardt_

Claude frowns deeply and pushes himself up from the desk. This letter almost felt like a farewell. Where could Linhardt have gone? Most of Lin’s things were still here, for now. It would appear that Claude would have to postpone the rest of that day’s duties as the esteemed envoy from Fódlan was now potentially missing. 

Claude takes the letter, as it was addressed to him, folds it up and stores it in his jacket. With that he carefully leaves Linhardt’s bedroom, looking up and down the hallway first to see if anyone spotted him. Certainly, people would have seen him the night before, and rumours would swirl. but it was always helpful to know who might be the new nexus point of any particular rumour. 

Claude makes his way through the hallway, the pace of his footsteps quickly increasing to match the pace of his racing thoughts. There is no way that Linhardt would leave, right? Linhardt was a visiting dignitary, there were protocols for those sorts of things, but Linhardt was more than likely to just ignore such things at his convenience. 

Claude inquires with the head hospitality staff and learns Linhardt was last seen that morning. As Claude rushes around, he finds the guard captain. Linhardt had not taken his security detail with him. Checking with the gatekeeper, Claude learns that Linhardt has indeed left the premises. Claude maintains his easy demeanour and practiced smile, all the while briskly walking down the stone path leading down from the Embassy’s gates. Sure, there were also protocols that he, as Crown Prince and de-facto Fódlani ambassador should also follow, but it wasn’t like he was going to bother with any of that now.

As much as Claude dreamt of a future where everyone could finally get along, he was acutely aware of how that was deeply not yet the case. The scorn and ridicule he had faced as a child had only cooled as it became clear that he wasn’t going away anytime soon. There were so many people who wanted him dead just for existing, and people still who would perhaps want to sabotage any diplomatic efforts between Fódlan and Almyra by any means necessary. Hence why Claude had made sure to designate a select few members of the Royal Guard to be available should Linhardt need to leave the Embassy unaccompanied. 

Linhardt was no longer nobility, but he was a renowned academic and formal general, and in fact, rumours that he was actually one of Edelgard’s lovers had managed to circulate even this far east. (To Claude’s knowledge, this is untrue, although he wouldn’t mind if it was factual.)

But most of all, despite all the clarifying information that was contained in that letter, above all, Claude had sensed immense pain coming from Linhardt. A whole torrent emotions that Claude scarcely had the ability to fully parse at the moment. He wasn’t fully sure what Linhardt had even meant to convey with that letter, but what he was sure of, was that he needed to find Linhardt as soon as possible.

* * *

Running away, that was the only thing Linhardt could do at times like this. He still would be in Almyra for at least another moon, but for now, he could still run. Waking up next to Claude had been like a dream. He was always so warm, and the scratchy feel of his beard could be ignored when wrapped up in his arms. But Linhardt couldn’t shake the feeling that his time was running short. At any point now, Claude would grow tired of Linhardt, lose his patience and want nothing to do with him. Even Caspar surely had his limits, after knowing Linhardt for so long.

Linhardt had run away, always. He ran away from the expectations of his family, his disappointed tutors, the exasperated bethrothees, the frustrated priests and the disgusted childhood acquaintances. He had then run away from the reality of the lives he had taken, of the worlds upended by the war he was supporting, had run away from his complex feelings towards Byleth—now Edelgard’s wife. And above all, he had ignored and pushed away his blooming schooltime crush on Claude, his feelings for Marianne—Everything. 

And now, with Claude finally, within his reach, he was running again. 

Linhardt was dressed in more of the traditional Almyran dress he had been given. But even so, he clearly stood out. No matter where he went, people gave him suspicious glances and sidelong looks. Usually, Linhardt would just pretend to ignore it, but it was clearly getting to them. All Linhardt wanted was to explore a little bit, browse the market, maybe find that herb he and Claude had seen together in the garden. Anything to distract themself from work and from Claude.

Claude had promised to take Linhardt to the market, and truth be told, he had wanted to go with him. Linhardt was lost, and even his decent Almyran only got him so far. Those suspicious glances turned to looks of bemusement as he stumbled through basic phrases and eventually just gave up on talking to merchants entirely, opting to just observe.

Linhardt wasn’t expecting much, just to hopefully waste the day away until Claude was so completely absorbed in his work that there was little possibility they would cross paths at the Embassy. What he certainly wasn’t expecting was for Claude to suddenly appear.

“Linhardt! Lin!” 

Turning towards the sound of the voice, Linhardt sees Claude all but sprinting towards him. Linhardt is about to greet him when all of a sudden Claude’s lips are on his. Linhardt, while not at all against kissing Claude in the abstract, at that moment, his lips scrunch up and he pushes Claude away by the shoulders.

“Claude! What are you _doing!_ ”

Claude however just meets Linhardt’s gaze, a very perplexing expression on his face. Claude looks…distraught, worried. And Linhardt can hardly imagine why. “Linhardt…” he gasps. “I’ve been looking all over for you!”

“I wasn’t aware that I was to inform you of my location at all times.”

“You left without even taking your guard detail? I thought something must have happened!”

Linhardt shrugs. “I may be a scholar, but I am also a trained soldier at the end of the day. I figured I could handle any sort of threat, should it manifest.”

“Look, I’m not doubting your skill, just—” Claude lets his head droop, his hands still clinging to Linhardt’s soldiers. “Okay, I read your letter. It sounded almost like you were saying goodbye.”

“Did you think that I would leave before my assignment was completed?”

Claude shakes his head. “Linhardt, why would you write me that letter, leave it for me to find, if you didn’t intend to never speak to me again!? You could have easily just told me face to face. I would have listened…”

Linhardt frowns, jerking one of his shoulders out of Claude’s grip. “Perhaps for you, or for anyone else, but not for me,” Linhardt sighs. “Have you already forgotten? I even made you read my final letter to you on my first day here. I am not confident in my ability to communicate through spoken words alone.”

Claude nods, letting his other hand fall from Linhardt’s shoulder. Linhardt is looking away, his cheeks flushed and his posture closed off. Claude is prepared to step away when one of Linhardt’s hands suddenly darts out to grab his wrist. Perhaps Claude should be used to it by now, being surprised by Linhardt, but he’s still caught off guard. Claude relaxes and lets Lin pull him along, away from the crowded market street to a more subdued back alley near a public garden.

They sit down together, not unlike they had in the gardens several days before. 

“Linhardt, what’s wrong?”

“You read the letter, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I did, every word of it,” he says, placing a hand over their still-joined hands. “And really, I feel a little bad now. I never got around to telling you everything I had learned about Marianne.”

Linhardt shakes his head. “I know already. Marianne coming to work in Enbarr, I learned just before I came here.”

“You did? Well, at least you’re aware of it,” he says, evaluating Linhardt’s expression. 

“Claude, I don’t understand. Why did you come after me?” His hand tightens around the hand he still holds. “Why did you kiss me, why are you still—”

Claude lifts his other hand to gently cup Linhardt’s cheek. “You seem awfully convinced that I was going to react a certain way. But I wonder Linhardt…why is that?” he pauses. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you didn’t seem all that concerned with others’ opinions of you, back at the academy. People getting the wrong idea about you seemed pretty commonplace.”

Linhardt grimaces. “I used to tell myself that, at least. I used to tell myself that if I ignored it, it couldn’t hurt me. If I kept running—” he grimaces. “Claude, you don’t get it. I screwed up with Marianne, I—” Linhardt’s words are then cut off by Claude’s disarmingly warm smile. 

“Linhardt,” Claude says, gently. “I don’t know everything, but I do know that, everything you’re thinking? About how Marianne must hate you and never want to see you again? It seems like Marianne feels similarly.”

Linhardt’s brow furrows. “What reason could she have to think that she is the one at fault—” Linhardt then pauses to think. “Right. Marianne’s thought process was never exactly logical. She often blamed herself for things clearly not her fault…” another pause.

“Well, from Marianne’s perspective, I think she must think you hate her for running away from your proposal.”

Linhardt lets out a heavy sigh. “Claude, there is no need for you to be involved in this.”

Claude lifts a hand. “Hey, I won’t meddle if you don’t want me to. But I think it’s in both of yours’ best interest to at least have the air cleared between you two.”

Linhardt sighs again. “I supposed then, after my return to Enbarr, I should at least endeavour to meet you.”

“Yeah I mean, it would be a hassle to have to avoid one of your colleagues every day.”

Linhardt shrugs. “The imperial palace is pretty massive. You would be surprised how easy it is to avoid any one person for days on end. Like for example, Hubert.”

Claude lets out an amused laugh. “Well, best not add to your list of adversaries without reason then, eh?”

“You do have a point there,” Linhardt presses their lips together, taking a moment to think back on everything that was observed until now. “Claude,” he says. “You were, honestly, genuinely worried about me, as if I was in immediate danger.”

Claude lets out a heavy sigh. 

“It would certainly cause a diplomatic incident if I were to be killed while in your care,” Claude makes an expression of protest before Linhardt continues. “But kissing me is not necessary to ascertain my wellbeing now, is it?” Linhardt then meets Claude’s eyes, drawing a little closer. 

“Well, I mean—if you’re wondering about that—”

Linhardt shakes their head. “Always actions over words with you,” Linhardt mutters, moving a hand to rest on the back of Claude’s head while pulling in to kiss him. Claude did not resist, instead eagerly melted into the kiss. It was always so frustrating, how Claude insisted on obscuring his feelings and hiding his vulnerabilities. Not that he could be blamed, it was clear that Claude’s position had always been extremely dangerous. The basic Almyran that Linhardt had acquired made him aware of the derisive and suspicious ways that Claude was still referred to. Sometimes in passing, Linhardt would hear a local dignitary say ‘outsider’ thinking it referred to Linhardt himself, but then the other person would reply with ‘two-blooded’ and Linhardt would know that they meant Claude instead. How baffling it was that Claude and himself were all but interchangeable in these bigots’ eyes. When Linhardt had at times felt that Claude couldn’t possibly be more different than himself.

While those cowards were undoubtedly wrong, there was some truth to their similarities. Linhardt felt it when alone with Claude, when clinging tight to his hand and operating on the things left unspoken. Claude still contained so many mysteries, but at the very least, Claude’s feelings for Linhardt, no longer counted among them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right! This now ends part 1!  
> I didn't initially intend this part to go this way but, alas. That's how writing be sometimes.   
> I am going to skip to the next portion being set in Enbarr, as I have about exhausted all I can do with just two characters. Please look forward to it!


End file.
